home English Tracks Chillinit – Pac Energy Lyrics

Chillinit – Pac Energy Lyrics

Song Info: Presenting you Chillinit – Pac Energy Lyrics.

Chillinit – Pac Energy Lyrics

Evil shit, my brother
I’m a winner, I’m going to win
I had to hustle hard, never give up
You should understand that I ain’t really fuckin’ around
Roll it up, roll it up, roll it up like
Roll it up, roll it up, roll it up like
Checka-checka-checka-checka one two
Maybe if they tried to understand me
What should I do? I had to feed my fuckin’ family
Whoo, whoo

[Verse 1]
Hear my name ring the bells like in London
Big Ben, Guns N’ Roses, this is Welcome to the Jungle
This is angelic demons, insane sinners and evil
And trips that’s out to Belgium with Js spliffs and diesel
This is Amsterdam, Thailand, the rest of them I paid off
Call me top dog when I’m smoking, yeah the J rock
Since a schoolboy I had a Q and yeah my name popped
Bars like Lamar, King Kunta when the name drop
Argh, three years three tapes I made a milli stack
I ain’t Lil Wayne but I’m about to bring a milli pack
Got a billy packed, marijuana let it burn now
Spin it, let is smoke, that’s a vroom vroom, burnout
Yo play that sample motherfucka
I’m a winner

[Verse 2]
Turn your voice off, you ain’t even speaking properly
Talking ’bout your jewelry, you ain’t even into property
I’m Loki when I flow and go Odin just like my bro
I’m like Hazeus, Hercules like Nordic Greek mythology uh
I’m only thirteen with deadliest pills
I was spotting every dog like Cruella de Vil
I perfected every bar because I’m better with skills
Yeah Jack n Jill even know that Chill’s ahead of the hill like ugh
Call me Federer, run the net like I’m Tennis
Hit six on a pitch and then switch it like Michael Bevan
Shane Warne, rest in peace, when I spin, throw the leggie
Wish you well, see me out on the street, come and get it
This is no time, matter fact I’m on my own grind
Why focus on me? I got my dough crime
Why care about opinions when my bro’s fine?
Wifey looking good with designer up on the clothesline
I’m at the Cypress Hill ganja farm
[?] with a swisher and a ganja plant
Ricky Ponting when I punt it then I find the mark
Switch words all on a pitch, boy I’m Michael Clarke
No cricket they chirp, no gimmicks
I don’t play with a dog no more, Mic Ennis
Woolworths with the herb and the bush, flip lettuce
Like Scrabble imma wrap up the game to flip letters, urgh

[Verse 3]
Told em hate it or love it
I’m the game, smoke a 50, kid is baked as an oven
Yeah the sweets superbad yeah it taste like McLovin
And yeah the boy’s Steve Martin, ganja cheaper in dozens ugh
Fuck em all brother, I’m stuck in my old ways
Old days, COVID19 catching a cold case
Wearing Jordan 1s, sprained my ankle, I rolled Js
Yeah Chilly smoke the chilli through billies in whole days uh
Yeah the bong’s lit, packing more
Killing motherfuckers like it’s John Wick Chapter 4
Shit, I’m in the Matrix, pack the tree
Numbers on the board I be Neo, you’re Keanu Reaves
Please, I got bars for the shipments
It’s PGA, I’m on par with the stick
On a queen with a ball and the bars full of kicks
Jon Rahm off the hit, go hard for my shit uh
Break even, get parred, I ain’t playing dirty
Big Eagle on the swoop, I don’t play with birdies
Golf talk, Tiger Woods on my golf walk
Few really for my stick, boy I’m in the golf war


This is the end of the Lyrics

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