Aired

[Intro]

Dolan on the keyboard

This is a Dolan Beats Production

[Chorus: Chief Keef]

Blunt full of dead oppers

National Guards can't stop us

Paranoid, tell me who knocking

Looking on the camera, tryna see who's plotting on me, yeah

Only been a day, but I took two trips

Bought a five-seven, and it came with three clips

Pinky rings on me like I won three 'ships, yes, it is, yeah

Two fifties, I'm one hundred, feeling like a champion

Run it up, get my stampede on, yes, I is

I'm feeling like Ric Flair, don't want it if it don't got stairs

Talk that shit, get aired, get aired

[Verse 1: Chief Keef]

Well, look who it is, got Obama on my wrist

Got money to get, no time for your bitch

Doing straight physicals, no time for a diss

And the thing on my wrist, like a bucket of piss

Rolled down on a ho, get up in the ship

So motherfucking sharp, might cut me a bitch

On top of the foreign, about to take me a pic

Just pulled to the crib, about to take me a bitch

Grandma used to be like, "Where'd you get that money?"

She seen me up running it, with shit that they come and get

Now it's diamonds on the cross, feeling so fucking boss

Might buy me a vault, just tell me the cost

House so far out, you gon' tell me you lost

All these sticks, we can stampede the law (Yeah, yeah)

All this ice I can make me a rink

All this gold I can make me a sea

All this surf I can make me a beach (Yeah, yeah)

Just to sleep, it's gon' take me a week

You slipping, I'll take me a three

Folks had that K in his briefs

[Chorus: Chief Keef]

Blunt full of dead oppers

National Guards can't stop us

Paranoid, tell me who knocking

Looking on the camera, tryna see who's plotting on me, yeah

Only been a day, but I took two trips

Bought a five-seven, and it came with three clips

Pinky rings on me like I won three 'ships, yes, it is, yeah

Two fifties, I'm one hundred, feeling like a champion

Run it up, get my stampede on, yes, I is

I'm feeling like Ric Flair, don't want it if it don't got stairs

Talk that shit, get aired, get aired

[Verse 2: Fredo Santana]

Cooling at the top, smoking dope, I'm just laughing

Let me see a opp, he get smoked, I'm gon' whack him

Thought he wanted smoke, shit, now he in a casket

The way I stretch this work, you would thought it was gymnastics

Bought a new crib, and that was off my last flip

Hard on these hoes, you can ask my last bitch

Me and Sosa, getting money, blue hunnids

Shitting, diarrhea, loose stomach

Diamonds so sick it'll make a nigga vomit

DooWop in the cut and he gon' hit you with that Tommy

I'm really with this shit, it ain't nothing to catch a body

Strapped up, every time I hit the party

Weed so strong, man, it got a nigga coughing

Gun so long, I'm like get up in this coffin

Shoot-outs broad day, man, I do that very often (What?)

Real street nigga, I'll slap a nigga momma

[Chorus: Chief Keef]

Blunt full of dead oppers

National Guards can't stop us

Paranoid, tell me who knocking

Looking on the camera, tryna see who's plotting on me, yeah

Only been a day, but I took two trips

Bought a five-seven, and it came with three clips

Pinky rings on me like I won three 'ships, yes, it is, yeah

Two fifties, I'm one hundred, feeling like a champion

Run it up, get my stampede on, yes, I is

I'm feeling like Ric Flair, don't want it if it don't got stairs

Talk that shit, get aired, get aired