Mint Chocolate Chip by Lil Slae Lyrics
[Chorus]
In the Tesla, we got FNs
Nah, I don’t hate you, don’t take offense
With the Ksubis on and the big ass V, yeah
But I don’t got friends
I head out when shit hit the fan
Nah, I don’t fuck with you, you a fan
At the bank I’m taking out bands
Finna play with that bitch like LAN
[Verse]
Fucked that hoe on cam
You shot at me and it jammed
Speedin’ with the aux in a ‘Claren
Nina on me, let her sing
“Who that boy?”
He from over there
Talk down on me and they think that I care
I’ve been the bigger man, it is clear
Pulled my cash out now she a deer
Mint ice cream my seats like, yеah
He ridin’ my dick, he gay
Pop a pill in my class, okay
Bitch I made thе beat, oh yeah
RIP Pedro, he good though
Really in the house livin’ good though
Counting the days ‘till I blew up
And the cheese in my pocket is Gouda
Spanish bitch, she got a fat culo
What you talkin’ ‘bout, um, who knows?
I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout shit, um, you know
On the mic I feel like Pluto
Yeah, uh
I got a crackhead, he gon’ run for me
He laugh out loud, but bro, ain’t shit funny
Balenci’ shoes don’t even fit on me
Runnin’ up them racks but i ain’t got cleats on me
Don’t dap me up, you not homie
AP my wrist more than a rollie
[Chorus]
In the Tesla, we got FNs
Nah, I don’t hate you, don’t take offense
With the Ksubis on and the big ass V, yeah
But I don’t got friends
I head out when shit hit the fan
Nah, I don’t fuck with you, you a fan
At the bank I’m taking out bands
Finna play with that bitch like LAN
In the Tesla, we got FNs
Nah, I don’t hate you, don’t take offense
With the Ksubis on and the big ass V, yeah
But I don’t got friends
I head out when shit hit the fan
Nah, I don’t fuck with you, you a fan
At the bank I’m taking out bands
Finna play with that bitch like LAN
[Verse]
Fucked that hoe on cam
You shot at me and it jammed
Speedin’ with the aux in a ‘Claren
Nina on me, let her sing
“Who that boy?”
He from over there
Talk down on me and they think that I care
I’ve been the bigger man, it is clear
Pulled my cash out now she a deer
Mint ice cream my seats like, yеah
He ridin’ my dick, he gay
Pop a pill in my class, okay
Bitch I made thе beat, oh yeah
RIP Pedro, he good though
Really in the house livin’ good though
Counting the days ‘till I blew up
And the cheese in my pocket is Gouda
Spanish bitch, she got a fat culo
What you talkin’ ‘bout, um, who knows?
I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout shit, um, you know
On the mic I feel like Pluto
Yeah, uh
I got a crackhead, he gon’ run for me
He laugh out loud, but bro, ain’t shit funny
Balenci’ shoes don’t even fit on me
Runnin’ up them racks but i ain’t got cleats on me
Don’t dap me up, you not homie
AP my wrist more than a rollie
[Chorus]
In the Tesla, we got FNs
Nah, I don’t hate you, don’t take offense
With the Ksubis on and the big ass V, yeah
But I don’t got friends
I head out when shit hit the fan
Nah, I don’t fuck with you, you a fan
At the bank I’m taking out bands
Finna play with that bitch like LAN