NLE Choppa - Chicago to Memphis lyrics

Featuring ,

Published

0 1242 0

NLE Choppa - Chicago to Memphis lyrics

[Intro: G Herbo] ni**a fu*k ni**a, fu*k ni**a, fu*k ni**a (Run that back, Playboi) [Verse 1: G Herbo] Raise the murder rate Anytime a ni**a play, we raise the murder rate Broad day, let thirty shots off and we skrrt away Park the car, don't drop off I be frontline when it pop off When it's crunch time, make him hot sauce Homicide, gon' take his block off Let the Glock off, knock yo' top off Ayy, watch him fly away Tryna stay up out them streets, I had to fly away Mama pray, I'm too deep in the streets to stop, I can't Really rich, I woke up, thought to buy that watch, I ain't I bank at five banks In my hood, I'm hall of fame I'm on that nine rate Changed the game, I showed my ni**as how to play, I got away (I got away) Still ain't put that fire away, you wanna die? Just try today My mind right, I'm flying straight, I prolly walk away Plus, I know you ni**as hoes, just act tough and talk away Eighteen got sacked up and strapped up, just off a play And I ain't hiding, I'm in LA, I'm in a Lamb, I'm in valet [Verse 2: NLE Choppa] Ayy, switch out thе tags and the VIN, 'cause I wanna spin again Couple shots in thе FN, the rest of 'em in his friend Ain't enough money in this world that'll make me cross a friend Ain't enough loyalty in the world for you to comprehend Freaky b*tch, I beat her back until it bend and it break Gave me head up in the Cat, I put the police on the chase Came in her mouth, got away, and still ain't ever hit the breaks Asked her, was she fine? She said her hair fu*ked up but she okay I'm as cutthroat as it get, and I'm 'bout as grimy as a ho (Grimy as a ho) Glizzy gotta match my fit or I ain't steppin' out the door Thirty shots, it wasn't enough, so I got fifty at the most Scratch the serial up out this b*tch, now both of y'all are ghost (Brr, brr, brr) Get my jewelry from Flawless Diamonds, but my b*tch go to Watkins (Go to Watkins) Might get a Urus on perfect timing, just to say I bought it ni**as weird, they sneak dissin' on me, and damn right I caught it (Damn right I caught it) A couple weeks later, we had his momma picking coffins This that sh*t that have you going a hunnid on the E-way Stop the car and let me out, I left him layin' on the freeway Got ni**as shooting behind and after me, like its a relay Blow his candles out his candlelight, call it a murder B-day (Br-brr-brr-brr) fu*k the scoreboard ni**a, you could check the stat sheet Run sh*t down like Sha'Carri in the track meet Put him in the backseat, then kill him on the backstreet Two shooters the tag team, his noodles on concrete (Concrete) ni**a Business is what we standing on Bullets hit his back, tell him to show it off like it's VLONE Few things I don't play about, money and respect, and my drones You see me, might play around, but I got bodies on my dome Shot a ni**a at fifteen, I never looked back since Slam dunk a opp, my arm in the rim like I'm Vince Purple bandanna, purple outfit, purple rain, like I'm Prince (Crip, crip, crip, crip, crip, crip) I'm a money makin' ni**a but I can't go out like Mitch (Brrt, brrt, brrt) I bet them bullets change his subject Why you stop su*king my dick b*tch, you seen I ain't nut yet (The fu*k) ni**as can talk all they want, I still ain't been touched yet Brodie tell me chill, he know I kill, but ni**a, fu*k that (ni**a fu*k that) Cause if I don't get him, they got me (Brrt) If I don't feel them they body (Brrt) Put 33 in them, Scottie, no Pippen (Brrt) Them bullets hit him, inject him, he feel 'em like penicillin We put ni**as pass the ceiling, in the sky giving God a visit Murder, murder, killing, killing Dirty .30 filled with sinnin' For certain, I'm murkin' a person thinking that I ain't with it (I ain't with it) Close the curtain, hospital visions We flatlinin' them b*tches, double back Now that them ni**as hit up his spine, now he Crippin' (Brrr) [Outro] Spine now he Crippin', ni**a Crip, ni**a NLE the Top Shotta (Shotta), got the bombs like Al-Qaeda (Al-Qaeda) Like what man? I'll drop 'em (Br- brr) Man, I'll slaughter, ni**a These ni**as know what we standin' on

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.