Big Chips - Iamsu!, Show Banga

Big chips, big chips, I’mma turn her up a lil bit

Hot boy, heat her up a lil bit, whoa

Big chips, big chips, you are not real, you exempt

I do what I want lil bitch

I’m the one they call when the need a stamp

I’m the neighborhood mailman

I been puttin' work in

On my neck a serpent (Gucci belt)

I just spent like two bands on some frames (Cartier)

You can never put me out the game (I'm on my way)

Everywhere I go they know my name

Shit was cool until they found out you a lame

They want that real shit

I’m on my independent hustle, fuck a deal shit

I’m not worried 'bout you niggas, not a lil bit

I got my weight up now I’m bout to make the game switch

Plus I’m riding with my same clique

Plot out the entire situation in my brain quick

They don’t speak in dollars then I do not know your language

I been on some gang shit

Every day make a play over grindin' understatement

Big chips, big chips, I’mma turn her up a lil bit

Hot boy, heat her up a lil bit, whoa

Big chips, big chips, you are not real, you exempt

I do what I want lil bitch

Get rich

You don’t need a shovel dig this

Shake a bitch like a hit stick

You don’t go no cash, dismissed

I could be broke on my own time

Plotting million dollar moves in my alone time

Got a roster full of poppin' girls, it’s all fine

Crib full of flat screens like it’s Best Buy

I like G-Star, and Stone Island

Rappers sayin' shit, just to rhyme it

I’m in the Uber gettin' top like Ramen

All the ones who turned against and surprise me, it’s good

«Let em hang bro»

My cousin Freak told me that not too long ago

You remember when they used to underestimate

Every beat I levitate, another check, another day

Let’s get it!

Big chips, big chips, I’mma turn her up a lil bit

Hot boy, heat her up a lil bit, whoa

Big chips, big chips, you are not real, you exempt

I do what I want lil bitch

Young nigga, millionaire state of mind though

Got it out the M-U-D, I had to grind yo

I can see the big chips with a blindfold

You ain’t a pimp, you’s a simp, what you cryin' fo?

Never ever trust a bitch that’s a big no

Remy Martin, takin shots of the XO

Hit your girl on the weekend, like XO

Pockets blue, pockets green like a gecko

Too good in the hood like I’m Metro

Yo girl drop a nigga chips, no Connect 4

I told Suzy that bitch really tryna take off

I’m finna kill these rapper niggas like I’m Adolf

They weight soft, full grizzy fuck a day off

You ain’t never ever working, you get laid off

I’m really Manti like Te’o

Gang tighter than a swimmer with a Speedo

Big chips, big chips, I’mma turn her up a lil bit

Hot boy, heat her up a lil bit, whoa

Big chips, big chips, you are not real, you exempt

I do what I want lil bitch