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Chiddy Video (MV)




Performed By: Benji Iii
Length: 2:29
Written by: Jerron Brown




Benji Iii - Chiddy Lyrics




Bag on her waist like a FUPA
Pimp her out, pass her to my dog, call it crew love
I got, I got plays on the way, I might call off
I don't give a f*ck, I'm my own boss
Look me in my eyes, look me in my eyes
Are you as with it as I am? Follow me? That's fine, but open up your mind
Cause you not gone waste my time
I need this, I need that, I need all of my respect
Play it smart, put you in the back if you can see the facts
Call my mans "Where it at?" had to pick it up in Chatt
If I ever drop a bag, I don't stress I get it back
I might give but I can't lack
So hop in this ford with your head in tact
Man I'm addicted to fast cash, my days start to feel like a time lapse
Cause I ain't been down in a minute
But this still a humble beginning
So I need receipts when I spend it
If you don't like weed I'm offended
F*ck a nine to five, breaking through the mold
Sticking to the code, I can't be controlled, That just how it go
I might bend, I don't fold, balance out the highs and lows
If you can't respect my soul, then I do it on my own

Hard in the paint but my name ain't Flaka
I don't wanna hang if your game ain't proper
F*ck your nice things, I don't fiend over Prada
But chiddy ching ching over everything
Hard in the paint but my name ain't Flaka
I don't wanna hang if your game ain't proper
F*ck your nice things, I don't fiend over Prada
But chiddy ching ching over everything
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Bag on her waist like a FUPA
Pimp her out, pass her to my dog, call it crew love
I got, I got plays on the way, I might call off
I don't give a f*ck, I'm my own boss
Look me in my eyes, look me in my eyes
Are you as with it as I am? Follow me? That's fine, but open up your mind
Cause you not gone waste my time
I need this, I need that, I need all of my respect
Play it smart, put you in the back if you can see the facts
Call my mans "Where it at?" had to pick it up in Chatt
If I ever drop a bag, I don't stress I get it back
I might give but I can't lack
So hop in this ford with your head in tact
Man I'm addicted to fast cash, my days start to feel like a time lapse
Cause I ain't been down in a minute
But this still a humble beginning
So I need receipts when I spend it
If you don't like weed I'm offended
F*ck a nine to five, breaking through the mold
Sticking to the code, I can't be controlled, That just how it go
I might bend, I don't fold, balance out the highs and lows
If you can't respect my soul, then I do it on my own

Hard in the paint but my name ain't Flaka
I don't wanna hang if your game ain't proper
F*ck your nice things, I don't fiend over Prada
But chiddy ching ching over everything
Hard in the paint but my name ain't Flaka
I don't wanna hang if your game ain't proper
F*ck your nice things, I don't fiend over Prada
But chiddy ching ching over everything
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Jerron Brown
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Benji Iii

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