Cheese Cake, Chips, Green Lyrics - Forch Fabalon

(INTRO) 

I think it a far and true statement to say 

That ain't no n888a out here gone out hustle me man 

Not, not out here in these streets, man nah 

I been doing this too long and too strong (FRE$H488!) 

You got to come get it if you want it 

(Chorus) 

My crew be on it bro 

I can't lie, we just want paper, want paper 

To be total honest fool, we just here 

To pull off some capers, some capers 

Get from round me dude 

If you ain't here 

To stack up dat paper, dat paper 

I just want Cheese Cake, Chips, Green 

Player you know what I mean 

X2 

(Verse One) 

I'm balling, I'm balling 

Can't you see I'm balling 

So I won't stop, I can't stop 

This game it just keep calling 

So I will, I will, keep pushing for my pesos 

Fu*k what you heard, them ni**as nerds 

Sounding absurd, we are that word 

Pushing dat turf 

Ooohhhh, hot boy in these hot times 

They running off that slick talk 

Then it mess around and be yo time 

Keep dat sweeper clean it up in no time 

Accept no disrespect or no hoe time 

Get dat chin in check and that's on mines 

You ain't go do sh*t, sit there like bit*h 

Who popping like this 

Ooohhh, H-Town and we on one 

We popping bottles, got plenty girls 

Gone VIP it some other time 

We got thick em girls and it going down 

When they spread em wide it's like sunshine 

Got boys face-timing they main chick 

Like baby ain't never ever come round 

Push, push, push, I don't see nothing but bush 

These girls they just want to play, so I 

Stick em down, lick em down, flip em round 

Then I oops in they face 

Then back, back on the block or the highway 

Getting, getting to the money real boss way 

Its Fabalon uckfay, ouyay 

You n***as never really liked my sh*t no way 

(Chorus X2) 

(Verse Two) 

Talk to me, talk to me 

Make it fast though 

Paper be calling for me, can't hold it up 

I be telling these people 

You got to hit while the hitting is good 

That ain't no bull, that ain't no feces 

Hold up, count my sh*t 

This ain't no three piece, before I get down the street 

I just want eat the pu**y up, tell these girls it ain't Fabalon enough 

Yeah, ain't none of you ni*8as off in my lane 

I guess the guapo, the guapo's to blame 

We sit different, we ain't cut cloth the same 

Ain't your fault your O.G. is to blame 

He was bit*h so you spit the same 

Talking bout years upon years upon game 

Ain't no way in hell you can beat me an Fame 

I can rock it for the hoes 

Out of pocket for my bros 

We ain't tripping on no doe 

Bout it, bout it, tally hoe 

Blocka, blocka, those opposed 

Just so that you know 

Too fat to go toe to toe 

30 cal drum Ocean of soul 

Get this MF cracking like whoa 

Talk him off the ledge no 

You disrespected my woes 

Fabalon gang, gang, gang 

Disrespect will bang, bang, bang 

In and out this MF like yeah 

Stick and move, jab, dip it ain't fare 

Getting to tripping shoot, shine on them ni**as 

Blue coupe all I ever had, kept dark skin chick on my neck 

We flexing baby what you know about that 

Hot damn! 

(Chorus x2)