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Chillin'

Chillin' Lyrics Troy Ave feat. Mac Miller

[Intro: Troy Ave]
It’s that feel-good right here
(Holiday Season!)
You had a long day at work, you got off
Just got some money, it’s Friday, you got paid
It’s that weekend music, know what I mean?
The weekend shit
(Holiday Season)
Alright, alright…

[Hook: Troy Ave]
I’m just ridin’ on some chillin’ shit
With a bad little joint, feelin’ good and shit
And we’ve been drinkin’ so we tryin’ to hit
But I’mma smoke just a lil’ bit
I’m just ridin’ on some chillin’ shit
With a bad little joint, feelin’ good and shit
And we’ve been drinkin so we tryin’ to hit
But I’mma smoke just a lil’ bit

[Verse 1: Troy Ave]
Tank top on with my big chain
Ridin’ through my city, nothin’ but a G thang
Money in my pockets, shit, I’m getting checks
Just got a text, read my “pussy wet”
Twenty minutes later, pull up at a store
She a bad little, bitch but I don’t adore (never)
Go and get a bottle from the store (alright, alright)
Slow sippin’, if I’m trippin’ I’mma hit it raw (naw)
Gram papers filled with the weed
Smoke that, now I got the feeling that I need
I’m feelin’ her and she feelin’ me (come on)
But feeling love’s for the suckers, B
We could fuck if we both agree
And if I spill a nut, she gon’ eat her peas (you do that)
I double L, for the mornin’ after
And I’m a real nigga - double entendre

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Mac Miller]
Still ridin’ in the backseat, listenin’ to Max B
Thousand-dollar belt buckle holdin’ up my khakis
It ain’t nothin’, I ain’t ballin’, I’m just playin’ ‘round
Kind of wish my bitch stayed around
Still ridin’ slow when I’m smokin’ my ‘dro
Still keep it low from the fuckin’ 5-0
Still ain’t got a penny for any of these hoes
Still getting’ chose, still gettin’ throat
Still let a bitch suck my dick while I’m on the mic
Still call that hoe a fiend cause she on the pipe
And my mom still tell me I ain’t talkin’ right
Still bring my homies with me when I’m on a flight
I ain’t sellin’ on the ave, shout to Relly On Smash
Still chillin’ with some bitches, watchin’ Belly, smokin’ hash
For the Oprah cash, don’t give a fuck about a badge
Still a spazz goin’ fast, 120 on the dash
Wrote some raps, that ain’t shit, man, that’s easy to me
It’s funny ‘cause this money like Jesus to me
How it be, my bitch Japanese
Shout to French Montana, still a mack with cheese

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Troy Ave]
Nigga - in the hood and I’m kind of heavy (for real)
I just bought a 2-Pac, not a Makaveli
I deal, and slick talk for a couple birds
First of the month gone by, the third
Sir - if you don’t hustle, then you won’t relate (won’t relate)
Bricks in my backpack, niggas on it late
(Powder) it’s all good, labels “OK”
On my way up out the hood, niggas show me hate
I need that, believe that
Fuel to my fire, fire up the weed bat (alright, alright)
Act - pack louder than a motherfucker
I’m ballin hard, baby, had a Ruckus (I’m proud)
In a pair of Js, and a pair of shades
Got the club goin’ crazy and I’m center stage
Puttin’ on for my city, got a bunch of fly bitches
And my real niggas with me

[Hook]

[Outro: Troy Ave]
I’mma smoke just a little bit
I’mma smoke just a little bit
I’mma smoke just a little bit
Money-makin’ mack, let me get a hit
And I’mma smoke just a little bit
I’mma smoke just a little bit
I’mma smoke just a little bit
I’mma smoke just a little bit
I’m sellin’ powder, nigga, get a sniff
What the fuck is up, piece of shit?
Chillin'

Off Troy's "White Christmas" mixtape, here he joins forces with Mac Miller on the easygoing "Chillin".

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