[INTRO]

CHAMPION….LA….DECEASED OOOOH!

[Chorus]

Pull up in a four door beamer

Bitch hoppin’ in and she got no sneakers

Blasting Bankroll on my muthafuckin’ speakers

By the way I fuckin’ dress you might think I’m the reaper, (AH HAH)

Bitch you ain’t got no flex

Bitch bitch you ain’t got no flex, (no flex)

Bitch you ain't got no flex

Bitch bitch you ain’t got no flex, (no flex)

[VERSE #1]

I got the peanut butter Louis on my belt

With the Glock forty gang ready to pelt

Karate chop bricks cause I’m rockin’ black felts

I am top of the line, nickname Roosevelt, (YAH)

Ya’lllllll pop melatonin cause you sleeping on me, (zzzzzz)

My grandpa still rockin’ ex-KGB

I was formed in the depths of the black sea

And I emerged as a walker not a banshee, (pew)

I represent this town bitch

One wrong move and you down snitch

Rolex on my wrist I’m not rich

Ice so cold locked in a fridge, (in a fridge)

Now I’m blastin’ down to Cartier, (burrrr)

Picked two stones for my mami eh

Two years making my music with Ye

And I’m stacking these bands Imma spend it anyway, (IMMA SPEND IT ANYWAY)

[VERSE #2]

Swingin’ from side to side, (side to side)

The henny the polar is guiding my stride

I ain’t got no slips I ain’t got downsides

And when you with me hell its do or die, (do or die)

Watch how you walk boy, (brrt)

Cause if you be caught in them corduroys

I’ll chip chop (say these three words before quickly) you up like some bok choy

Imma lock you in a locker you schoolboy, (dumb schoolboy)

(P-)Pourin’ some cough syrup down in my cup, (pour it up)

Chuckin’ the sprite to see it catch up

I bring that shit down to a pub or a club

And if you with squad then I’ll offer it up, (offer it up)

Champion la Deceased yeah you know what, (huh)

My hair used to look like a chestnut

But then I bossed up and took no shortcuts

So remember my name when you talk mutt, (mutt)

[Chorus]

Pull up in a four door beamer

Bitch hoppin’ in and she got no sneakers

Blasting Bankroll on my muthafuckin’ speakers

By the way I fuckin’ dress you might think I’m the reaper, (AH HAH)

Bitch you ain’t got no flex

Bitch bitch you ain’t got no flex, (no flex)

Bitch you ain't got no flex

Bitch bitch you ain’t got no flex, (no flex)

The government losing all sight of its hope, (yah)

The chaos is coming I can’t seem to cope

I feel like I’m slashin’ a gucci tightrope

The murdered black Audi lookin’ like a rhino, (flex)

Sending mixed signals from town to town, (rich)

You blowin’ balloons yeah you is a clown

And if you don’t know how to hold it down

Then Deceased will come and fuckin’ shut you down, (pussy)

(come on pussy)

(yuh)

(pull up in a four door beamer)

(pull up in a four door beamer)

(pull up in a four door beamer HRRRAAAAH)