Detroit 187 Lyrics - Chip

[feat. Chips] 

[Verse 1: Danny Brown] 

The way these bitches on my cock 

You'd swear was 1985 and teen wolf just dropped 

And my name was Michael J Fox 

But my name is Danny Brown I got some weed in my sock 

So get high with ya nigga 

Sack I got looking some dead caterpillars 

But it smell like a skunk thats defensive 

These bitches suck my dick like its a moral incentive 

Off the chain like broke nunchucks 

Where little niggas come thru and shoot u over new chucks 

A little dark like wet nubuck 

Decribes my state of mind is inside the tomb of king tut 

Murder all the time all we see 

Detroit 187 on you niggas TV 

I can first degree this beat and walk wit no charges 

Kill a underground emcee and famous female pop artist 

And ohh baby I like it raw 

Dick so big stretch marks on her jaw 

I'm so institutionalized 

I wake up 6 AM because I think its chow time 

I'm a borderline porcupine 

A step from drinking turpentine 

Just to wash down a plate of these wack rappers rhymes 

I got a mind in the cosmos 

And if these niggas cold then I guess I'm osmosis 

That be blowing on some potent 

That them white boys be growing 

While you niggas smoking smelling like some tanning lotion 

My concoctions could make world ending potions 

These other rap niggas got lines I got encroachments 

I got endorsements so muthafucka a cosign 

Punch punchlines I'll punch rappers til your broke spine 

Remember back in 09 

I told em it was showtime 

Now they pull they cam phones out when I go for mine 

Lights camera action 

Hybrid be snapping 

Cause the days of no tissue had to whip with wet napkins 

Smear up the classifieds know it sound trife 

But to be honest a metaphor my life 

[Verse 2: Chip$] 

Buzzin off the bar bitch you with's an amphetamine 

Taste it with a 40 oz of Ever Clean 

I swear I never ever smoke the better green 

Yo bitch said I'm the swaggiest nigga she ever seen 

Run up in yo crib, Two K's, One Mag 

Yo girl get snatched like Cool J in I'm Bad 

Cost to live, you ain't made enough 

Guarantee bullet holes with a laser touch 

European garments drape my body if I ain't hipstered up 

If she smile with eye contact then the bitch will fuck 

Homie gone make me send them killers after him 

Them niggas swing swords like Word Fence Champions 

You was poppin' pills and drinking liquor 

Now you thinkin you a gangsta killer 

I leave you stankin' nigga 

Laid down, face down like you taking a plankin picture 

But I can keep the shots in the weapon 

Put the bat to back of your leg 

Grab your chin and the back of your head 

And twist them shits in opposite directions 

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