Cruising in my six four, damn, I got a sick flow
Cruising in my six four, damn, I got a sick flow
Cruising in my six four, you know I got a sick flow
Asking where I’m headed to, asking what they asking for
Album full of hits, pocket full of bits
Bag full of green, mouth full of swish
Ear full of chronic gable, head full of dead cells
Cat full of afro, hand full of steering wheel
Cruise passed the bus stop, two miles and out
Air condition blow with the windows rolled down
And I turn it up ’cause the speakers full of bass
And I pull down the top ’cause the air’s full of grape
With a head full of cockiness, backseat full of hoes
Clip full of BBC, backpack full of clothes
Neck full of gold ropes, ear full of diamonds
Woke up from the dream, I ain’t even got my license
Shit
Cruising in my six four, damn, I got a sick flow
Cruising in my six four, you know I got a sick flow
Cruising in my six four, damn, I got a sick flow
Asking where I’m headed to, asking what they asking for
What they asking for, what they fuck they asking for
Fuck they asking for
—————–
Crusin
Chance The Rapper
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