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Cover Art

B.S. Lyrics by Chilly Winters

2019

I ain't stressin’ bout shit
I ain't sweatin' lil boys I’ll take that boy bitch
Big metal with the clip
Make that motha fucka jump Calvin Johnson with the grip
Out here with a smile on my face
Bitch they kicked my door I was listening to Drake
Champagne keep the bottle for the pain
Feelin' like I'm bout to get to drowning in a lake
No friends no friends I don't need em
Got me locked up but bitch they gave me back my freedom
I know they didn't like that I was young with the sauce
Now that I am older I'm a motha fuckin' boss
Fuck em' all shoot a shot make em jog
Locked me in the slammer like a mo’ fuckin’ pog
Only had a lil two hundred analogues
Life paused got out bounced back on the job
Real street shit summer summer got me drippy
Got a dope fiend that'll kill a hater for a fifty
Real street shit mo’ fuckas they be iffy
They'll hit ya for a dolla if they itchin' keep the yicky
Real street shit I'll be thuggin’ till' I'm sixty
Chasin Beamers, Benz, and Bentleys
Squeeze the pistol till' it's empty
On some bullshit on some bullshit
On some bullshit real street shit (yuppp)
They be lost in how I'm saucin'
Drippin' all night that's a faucet
Hangin' with the hook you a closet
Beatin' up the pussy like a mo' fuckin most pit
Paint yo' city black make it Gothic
Fill it up with smoke hot box it
Fighting for my life I be boxing
Bitch I'm fucking crazy that's a Doctor's diagnostics
I'm a dog I'm a dog if you really got a pair sound off
If they talkin' out the neck we gon' rock em' in the jaw
Fuck the law I'm a boss keep the metro for the call
I'm a motha fuckin' felon if I could I'd free em all
I'm a scrub get it out the mud get it out the slum
Gotta grub I'mma hit em' with the pump
What the fuck? I'm a motha fuckin' bum
Push em' back make em' jump
I'm just having fun we ain't letting up
What's up?
Real street shit summer summer got me drippy
Got a dope fiend that'll kill a hater for a fifty
Real street shit mo' fuckas they be iffy
They'll hit ya for a dolla if they itchin' keep the yicky
Real street shit I'll be thuggin' till' I'm sixty
Chasin Beamers, Benz, and Bentleys
Squeeze the pistol till' it's empty
On some bullshit on some bullshit
On some bullshit real street shit (yuppp)
Credits
Chilly Winters

Chilly Winters

About “B.S.” by Chilly Winters

Read the complete lyrics to "B.S." by Chilly Winters in 2019. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Hardcore Rap, Cloud Rap, Rap.

"B.S." is performed by Chilly Winters. in 2019 This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL. Music lyrics help listeners connect with emotion, narrative, and rhythm in a track. Whether you are learning English, researching a favorite chorus, or preparing for karaoke, having accurate line breaks and section labels (verse, chorus, bridge) makes the experience easier. We link to the official artist profile on Lyrks where available, including biography snippets, top songs, and chart placements when we have that data. If you enjoy "B.S.", explore more songs by Chilly Winters using the links below. Chart and trending pages on Lyrks highlight what listeners are searching for this week. For copyright or correction requests, see our DMCA and contact pages.

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Frequently asked questions

"B.S." is credited to Chilly Winters. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.

Album information for "B.S." is not available in our database yet. You can still read the full lyrics on this page.

Visit the Chilly Winters artist page at /artist/chilly-winters for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.