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• Artiste: Devin The Dude
• Titre: Nothin' Really Just Chillin'
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I'm not in my right mind, and it's nighttime Higher than a Georgia pine, but it's time to write rhymes Shoot 'em through the pipeline to your partners in the public Hopin' that they love it, fuck it if it has no subject, but Some act like Uncle Ruckus don't want niggas havin' nothin' Like the only thing we like is fightin', shootin', stabbin', cuttin' No, I have no nine-to-five, but I rap and sing at least Now I cop a box of chicken, used to get a wing apiece "Do you want your cornbread?" Man, you better go on 'head Aw, mane, anyone you can call? "Shit, my phone dead" Tone said in '89, time to do the wild thing I'll slang cow brain and serve it with chow mein Cloudrains—I mean rainclouds over my head What the fuck? Don't even know what I said I'm just trippin', rappin', tippin', tappin', sippin', laughin' Let me get that, bae, what's happenin'? What you doin', nigga? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' Nothin' really, somethin' silly, groove to fill my album up Smooth and witty, cool and chilly Who that bitch that grabbed my nuts? DJ, turn the music up, put a lil' more bass in it Bandit got a hookah full of weed, I guess I'll take a hit For the sake of it, I'll buy a whole bottle Of Bud Light, and take a cold swallow Go holla at my partners 'cause now everybody's got it That loud, that fire, that heat, that gas, that exotic The Rockets, Astros, Arrows and Comets All in Houston, flyin' high, just like I'm is High as fuck, time is up, three o'clock, club close Nothin' else poppin' but AKs, gauges and snub-nose Rub toes with a gal later when we hit the sheets Right after she break the weed down and I split the Sweet Finally 'bout to get a piece, finna freak Telephone rings, what the hell you want, mane? What you doin', nigga? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' What you doin'? Nothin' really, just chillin' Just chillin'