Chief Keef & Mike WiLL Made-It – Status Lyrics | Official Video

Lyrics Status – Chief Keef & Mike WiLL Made-It

Okay, okay, put him in the trunk
Put him in the forest, change his name to Gump
Soon as I let the window down, you gon’ smell the skunk
Legendary, write my name in Rosetta Stone

Yeah, you got a chain but you a punk
Yeah, I got a pump, I let it rock like punk
Four pail, triple S’s, b**ch, you gettin’ stuck
Speedin’ in a foreign, pockets holdin’ all the humps


Yeah, I’m rich, homie, but don’t know that n**ga Quan
Neck on lagoon, boy, yo’ s**t be on pond
Snakes in the grass when we stummin’ on the lawn
Been a bad boy, b**ch, I feel like Martin Lawrence
And I’m gettin’ head in the foreign, where I’m goin’
Gettin’ a massage in the foreign while drivin’
All black truck, that b**ch look like I’m hidin’
Took her to the hood and she mumbled, n**ga savage

N**ga, get a farm and get some cabbage..④
I be tryna break my bad habits
Diamonds singin’ on a b**ch like Lenny Kravitz
Put you to a end like some credits
Choppa put you up like a status

When I pull up, you know I’m swaggin’
He actin’ like a killer, n**ga braggin’
Somebody tell security, let the bag in
Walk up in the club, get the backend
They won’t even know a n**ga packin’
I might be high but I ain’t lackin’
Flame a little blunt, no stressin’

Gotta have the lead, b**ches sketchy
Four years probation, judge petty
Oh, you think you got me Let’s get it
Knock, knock, knock, b**ch it’s FedEx
They can’t read about you on Reddit
I’ll put your life on Amazon
Hoppin’ out the Dawn like a been a don
N**gas always sour like vinegar
I’m tryna fit five, six b**ches in the car
I’m tryna fit five, six b**ches in the car
N**gas always sour like vinegar
I’m tryna fit five, six b**ches in the car


B**ch, I’m on Saturn, ’bout to eat the moon
She won’t only eat the dick, the b**ch will eat a shroom
Spider webbin’ h*es, we gon’ need a broom
It’s 12 AM but you won’t see the noon
B**ch, I been a goon, I don’t need goon
How you ride through my hood and you ain’t see the goons
Make the stick breakdance, I don’t need no tunes
Tell your b**ch, hey baby, go in either room, let’s get it
Pull up to the county, tell ’em free the goons
You always sad, I’ll watch the f**kin’ sea bloom
Tell them split the red in the green room
Crazy ass sandals at a cookout
Security ass n**ga, be a lookout

Where George at I’m slidin’ to the Bush house
Act like I was east when it went south
Four piece on my neck, feel like heroes
Sosa is you straight, yeah, I’m narrow
Tell Robin Hood to sharpen up my arrows
Had my b**ch beat a b**ch, red sparrow
And I’m havin’ more stripes than a shelltoe
I be smokin’ more trees than a Timberland
Hang him off a tree if I catch Zimmerman
Let his ass die, b**ch, f**k the ambulance
Let his ass die, b**ch, f**k the ER

I’ll drive a smart car through street war
Man, these n**gas suckin’ dick for some PR
You got a drum, I got a drum, let’s have a beat war
Blue jeans, gray jeans, let’s have a jean war
N**ga, you need to close your eyes, you never seen war
Man, I’m f**ked up, ridin’ with that Glock docked
Met the gang, beat your ass, bet your papa die
Squally ass n**ga, n**ga, you a copper cop
When my locksmith pull up and pop a lock
‘Posed to cock and pop p**sy but you popped and drop
And my son a f**king prince like he with Rap-A-Lot

Bang.. bang, bang..
Yeah.. skrrt
Beat him, Cop
Pop it and drop it…

➤ Written by Mike WiLL Made-It & Chief Keef
Produced by Mike WiLL Made-It
Chief Keef | Mike WiLL Made-It | 2020

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