Nothin' Really Just Chillin' - Devin the Dude

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'