BEEHAVE Lyrics – CHIP

Read the full BEEHAVE lyrics by CHIP along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Chip’s music, you can also explore GTTB, another song by Chip.

They swarmed around me like bees,
But they were consumed as quickly as burning thorns.
In the name of the Lord, I cut them down. Now.

Oh no.
Yo.

Oi, you live with your mom, you little (??).
I paid off mom’s yard. You’re getting mad,
Borrowing watches, teeth, and clothes.
Run your baby mom back her bags
Before I have to listen and spill.

I know where your son goes.
Football still profiting off a young G and a hearse.
But when you saw RV, you was chatting about church.
Is it your young G or a kid from your area?
The street say you’re looking weird,
And I said it’s your young G, not a kid from your area.

Hold on, it’s getting scarier.
Naming everybody that’s done well
But can’t say the same about yourself.
Sen, I’ll give him hell.
Zimi, hit the drawer and pick your belt.

Friendly fire was your gimmick.
This was never about lyrics.
This is about a nasty (??) (??),
Needing clout from people dying and killings.
I can’t believe you’re still writing lyrics.

These times, you know where artists spinning it.
These times, you know where farm is spinning it.
You ride too slow, bro, could have got birthday beats.
You can’t chat to man about rhythms.
Fake musician, punk on a one-way mission.

Street ready. Ain’t you on what?
Filming yourself doing crimes.

What are you going to do if they play your lyrics in court
And ask about packs in my house?
What’s your stance on what you’re rapping about?
Or just admit it’s cat from your mouth, joke.

The word-for-word thing—I’ve mastered it.
You don’t stand for (??) or know half of it.
These times, Bugsy called me a snitch,
And you asked me to do your remix after it.
Begging and breading and geminate after it.
Drop them out, then they want a problem after it.

It was fun when you was going shell in it.
It’s not fun when you’re holding shells in it.
It’s not fun when you’re taking L’s.

Is it Lambush? I never been jacked in Camden.
Big up to CH and Ramps, them.
Word on road—you ain’t gang them, phone them, or man them,
‘Cause you can’t keep your hand off.

Can’t believe that I’m clashing—this clap with the rap.
Spray that in the name of black justice.
You know your name’s that expert trust chip.
They know I back d!ck-riding stiff chocolate.

But when it comes to bars, you ain’t got this.
About show me 100 foul.
You ain’t show Mom’s kitchen all now.
Trying to give a (??) for the road man stuff.

If you’re chatting about music,
I’m licking him down for an unclear sample.
Pay—I’m not an idiot.
Let them run they feeling.
Got too many bangers that one got deleted.
When I say legend, they wheel it.

Why (??) hating on my ends
When they got problems in their own bar?
It’s where that tweet pie is having a mar.
Swear I heard you got stripped round.
Yeah, you’re the Lulu world. You ch my girl.

I’m a virgin. I don’t kiss and tell.
You busting any gal because you’re scum.
Baby mothers wish you wore a dump.
When it comes to music, I’m your father.
Your mother can’t be proud to call you son.

If everything you really say, you mean it.
Click that Jumpy remix and delete it.
I don’t give a (??) about your cosigns.
I’m not with the stamping s*xual deviants.
Me? I’d rather stamp on s*xual deviants.

Chatting about you—why you chatting about Chris?
Ray Black. Now it’s s*xual gestures, that sis.
You creep. You should be on the list.

Oh, Ray, man. Ray, man, don’t do me like this, man.
I’m sorry. I apologize, man. You know me.
I’m just flirty, man. I was (??) about it, man.
Your brush was out. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.
I didn’t mean it, man.

Don’t do me like that, man.
You don’t have to think like that, man.
You know me, ’cause I just vibe.

Why you starting on Chippy? I just vibe.
Why you touching titties? Why you sleeping with knees?
I’m stupid. That’s not grim, that’s greedy.
Why you snake? Who helps?
Why did you come for my belts?
That’s why you’re getting this belt. Why?

Keep your hands to yourself.
I touched her. I touched that breast, bro.
You know me, man. I’m stupid.