Lyrics to Coco Chanel
Whole lotta gang shit
Beatz
Oh, uh, ugh, ayo Chun, ayo Chun
We back on that Coco shit, nigga, number one, uh
Whole lotta gang shit
Haha, every bitch bloodclaat, girl
Oh, ayo, uh, Brooklyn!
Kick for my stomach, let's go!
Yo, he got me like a coco, yeah like a coco
Ellas quieren coco, y yo tampoco
Never trust a broke hoe, don’t fuck with po-po
Numero uno, me llama Yoko
Pull up in them thing things and let them thing fling
Niggas know my name ring, and it go “ding-ding”
If I get a inkling, the thing'll sing-sing
Ain't talkin’ 'bout the singer, the thing'll sting-sting
Ayo, if I'm in the Gurkha, then they in the back of it
If I tell 'em eat food, then they make a snack of it
If they take your cocaine, then they make a crack of it
If they YAB your gold chain, then they make a plaque of it
Know we never lack on it, run up with the MAC on it
Put a couple racks on it, they gon' put the whack on it
She got the Nicki bundles, word to Stack on it
That's word to Brooknam, that's word to Bucktown
That’s word to Harlem World, shout out to uptown
You know I shine on ’em, I spray sheen on 'em
That’s word to southside, Jamaica, Queens on 'em
I'm mad Queens on 'em, with mad schemes on ’em
I never scale back, the triple beams on 'em
My ice gleams on 'em, Wu-Tang creams on 'em
I pull up on the block bumpin' Biggie "Dreams" on 'em (woop)
A nigga greased on 'em, but I freezed on 'em
I light breezed on 'em, I might breeze on 'em
Might do it like it's Christmas and light trees on 'em
I see the copycats bitin' my steez on 'em
Yo, he got me like a coco, yeah like a coco
Ellas quieren coco, y yo tampoco
Never trust a broke hoe, don't fuck with po-po
Numero uno, me llama Yoko
Pull up in them thing things and let them thing fling
Niggas know my name ring, and it go “ding-ding”
If I get a inkling, the thing'll sing-sing
Ain't talkin' 'bout the singer, the thing'll sting-sting
Gimme some bloodclaat gunshots
Brooklyn where the fuck we at? Flatbush, Bed-Stuy
That's my word to Big, I'ma murder them rasclaats
All black Chloe straps, gally I'ma skully to the back
Fuck my ratchet at? Come make me dutty that
Puss dem I chat 'bout, back like I never left
Went down when I come 'round, all y'all bitches bow down
King fox, King Kong, back on my Trini, nigga
Valentino bling thong, all y'all bitches duck me, fuck
Nick, come fuck it up, bad gyal a back it up
Coco 'pon my foot dem, C's pon my likkle pretty red bow
See dem buss one for baby, see dem, chugh!
Pussy whine chime, ay, ay, ay, ay
The bloodclaat this, the Moet let me die
Them bitches in them bum-ass Louis thigh highs
I'm on my clip, blue jeep, Van Herpen day-days (woah)
Gun slingers, let me see y'all gun fingers
Y'all bitches dick riders
Little Nicki's, little Inga's, woah!
Yo, he got me like a coco, yeah like a coco
Ellas quieren coco, y yo tampoco
Never trust a broke hoe, don't fuck with po-po
Numero uno, me llama Yoko
Pull up in them thing things and let them thing fling
Niggas know my name ring, and it go “ding-ding”
If I get a inkling, the thing'll sing-sing
Ain't talkin' 'bout the singer, the thing'll sting-sting
Foxy plus one, it's me young Chun
And me, I can fuck up the place, I'm done
So tell 'em run, come and bring a lump sum
Ayo Fox, they don't make us or break us, word to young guns
Put your hands up
Unless they ever do it, tell' em fi recognize
Unuh kyat tell, dem fi fi real vibes
They call me Ms. Bitch, but I don't miss, bitch
Got real shooters, better D up, guys
Who me? I'm physically fine
Who she? It's like we know she dyin'
Bitch ain't see Billboard in 2017
Had to drop Queen on 'em like a guillotine
All these jealous bitches on the jelly team
Keepin' it a hundred, that's a jelly bean
Uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh (mhm, mhm, eyy, eyy)
Uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh (ihh, ihh, eyy, eyy)
Beatz
Oh, uh, ugh, ayo Chun, ayo Chun
We back on that Coco shit, nigga, number one, uh
Whole lotta gang shit
Haha, every bitch bloodclaat, girl
Oh, ayo, uh, Brooklyn!
Kick for my stomach, let's go!
Yo, he got me like a coco, yeah like a coco
Ellas quieren coco, y yo tampoco
Never trust a broke hoe, don’t fuck with po-po
Numero uno, me llama Yoko
Pull up in them thing things and let them thing fling
Niggas know my name ring, and it go “ding-ding”
If I get a inkling, the thing'll sing-sing
Ain't talkin’ 'bout the singer, the thing'll sting-sting
Ayo, if I'm in the Gurkha, then they in the back of it
If I tell 'em eat food, then they make a snack of it
If they take your cocaine, then they make a crack of it
If they YAB your gold chain, then they make a plaque of it
Know we never lack on it, run up with the MAC on it
Put a couple racks on it, they gon' put the whack on it
She got the Nicki bundles, word to Stack on it
That's word to Brooknam, that's word to Bucktown
That’s word to Harlem World, shout out to uptown
You know I shine on ’em, I spray sheen on 'em
That’s word to southside, Jamaica, Queens on 'em
I'm mad Queens on 'em, with mad schemes on ’em
I never scale back, the triple beams on 'em
My ice gleams on 'em, Wu-Tang creams on 'em
I pull up on the block bumpin' Biggie "Dreams" on 'em (woop)
A nigga greased on 'em, but I freezed on 'em
I light breezed on 'em, I might breeze on 'em
Might do it like it's Christmas and light trees on 'em
I see the copycats bitin' my steez on 'em
Yo, he got me like a coco, yeah like a coco
Ellas quieren coco, y yo tampoco
Never trust a broke hoe, don't fuck with po-po
Numero uno, me llama Yoko
Pull up in them thing things and let them thing fling
Niggas know my name ring, and it go “ding-ding”
If I get a inkling, the thing'll sing-sing
Ain't talkin' 'bout the singer, the thing'll sting-sting
Gimme some bloodclaat gunshots
Brooklyn where the fuck we at? Flatbush, Bed-Stuy
That's my word to Big, I'ma murder them rasclaats
All black Chloe straps, gally I'ma skully to the back
Fuck my ratchet at? Come make me dutty that
Puss dem I chat 'bout, back like I never left
Went down when I come 'round, all y'all bitches bow down
King fox, King Kong, back on my Trini, nigga
Valentino bling thong, all y'all bitches duck me, fuck
Nick, come fuck it up, bad gyal a back it up
Coco 'pon my foot dem, C's pon my likkle pretty red bow
See dem buss one for baby, see dem, chugh!
Pussy whine chime, ay, ay, ay, ay
The bloodclaat this, the Moet let me die
Them bitches in them bum-ass Louis thigh highs
I'm on my clip, blue jeep, Van Herpen day-days (woah)
Gun slingers, let me see y'all gun fingers
Y'all bitches dick riders
Little Nicki's, little Inga's, woah!
Yo, he got me like a coco, yeah like a coco
Ellas quieren coco, y yo tampoco
Never trust a broke hoe, don't fuck with po-po
Numero uno, me llama Yoko
Pull up in them thing things and let them thing fling
Niggas know my name ring, and it go “ding-ding”
If I get a inkling, the thing'll sing-sing
Ain't talkin' 'bout the singer, the thing'll sting-sting
Foxy plus one, it's me young Chun
And me, I can fuck up the place, I'm done
So tell 'em run, come and bring a lump sum
Ayo Fox, they don't make us or break us, word to young guns
Put your hands up
Unless they ever do it, tell' em fi recognize
Unuh kyat tell, dem fi fi real vibes
They call me Ms. Bitch, but I don't miss, bitch
Got real shooters, better D up, guys
Who me? I'm physically fine
Who she? It's like we know she dyin'
Bitch ain't see Billboard in 2017
Had to drop Queen on 'em like a guillotine
All these jealous bitches on the jelly team
Keepin' it a hundred, that's a jelly bean
Uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh (mhm, mhm, eyy, eyy)
Uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh (ihh, ihh, eyy, eyy)
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