Receipts Songtext
von Fredo Bang

Damn Chose!
Ayy, say, you can check the facts
You know I ain′t never lied in a song (DJ Chose)
You know, everything I talk 'bout, I actually did
Ay, shoutout T-Boy
Hardbody

Ayy, turn down your gangsta, nigga you just makin′ music
He got a .30, we ain't never seen him use it
All your friends be dead, nigga you must fuck with Uzi
When it's ′bout that murder, bitch, I′m similar to Gucci, yeah
Bitch, if you beefin', then we beefin′ back
Say he got a body, don't believe him, need a receipt with that
Say he got them Drac′s, bitch you lyin', where you keep ′em at?
Say you got a body, bitch you lyin', need a receipt with that (Yeah, yeah, yeah)


Wait
You know we put shit in the grave for playin' games, bitch
Yeah, pull on side the whip and spray, fuck who he came with, yeah
Real ape up out the jungle, you can′t tame this
Nigga sweet as cookies, call him Famous Amos
Fuck with the opps then you gon′ die with who you hang with
Yeah, T-shirt, blood stains, what the business is (What it is)
Yeah, drop a diss, youngin' hollerin′, what the ticket is (What it is)
Ooh, push that dick off in his bitch, I don't care how you feel

Ayy, turn down your gangsta, nigga you just makin′ music
He got a .30, we ain't never seen him use it
All your friends be dead, nigga you must fuck with Uzi
When it ′bout that murder, bitch, I'm similar to Gucci, yeah
Bitch, if you beefin', then we beefin′ back
Say he got a body, don′t believe him, need a receipt with that
Say he got them Drac's, bitch you lyin′, where you keep 'em at?
Say you got a body, bitch you lyin′, need a receipt with that (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

Paid off them bodies, if I murk em get a hundo
I'm on 75 with a .30 in the console, yeah
Pop ′em from the three, bitch I'ma pull it like Toronto
Bitch I beat a murder charge, I feel like OJ in that Bronco, yeah
Brand new Glock nine but I can shoot, don't call me Rondo
And I just added hollow tips, them bitches piercing just like Paul
We throw them dirty sticks away, just so the murders never solved
And I ain′t never squash a beef, so bitch your OG better not call


Ayy, turn down your gangsta, nigga you just makin′ music
He got a .30, we ain't never seen him use it
All your friends be dead, nigga you must fuck with Uzi
When it ′bout that murder, bitch, I'm similar to Gucci, yeah
Bitch, if you beefin′, then we beefin' back
Say he got a body, don′t believe him, need a receipt with that
Say he got them Drac's, bitch you lyin', where you keep ′em at?
Say you got a body, bitch you lyin′, need a receipt with that (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

Damn Chose
Hardbody
DJ Chose