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choppaboy rayray - ed edd and eddy lyrics

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[intro: choppaboy rayray]
yeah
this that ghetto choppa music
chops, chops
chops

[verse 1: choppaboy rayray]
hit that n+gga up top, watch his body fall in line
every time we beef with n+ggas, they get murdered every time
fully+automatic pistols, i’m protectin’ me and mines
hot boys, but we workin’, what you need? stand in line
in that cell doin’ time, caught me with a weapon
came home bumpin’ twin like that sh+t never happened
drop your mans, you runnin’ ’round like that sh+t never happened
sneak dissin’ in your songs, you a b+tch n+gga rappin’
pull up on you, start clappin’, sound just like an audience
put k!llers on your roof like some christmas ornaments
start eliminatin’ n+ggas like we in a tournament
got it with my n+ggas, same ones that i’ma burn it with
b+tch, you know who turn it is, b+tch, we run the city
heard them n+ggas talkin’ bad, tell rio go and get him
n+ggas always talkin’ choppers, but they know we got plenty
choppa boyz, ghetto boyz, b+tch we run the city
[verse 2: rio da yung og]
yeah, sh+t, my kit ’bout a hundred+fifty
ray seen me runnin’ from the hook, he took off runnin’ with me
i just sold dog a cut eight, got his stomach busy
you know i’m used to spinnin’ hoes, have a woman dizzy
ain’t no one+on+ones, i swing, mike punchin’ with me
the way i drink lean, they like, “he must have another kidney”
i hope a n+gga don’t think i’m goin’ easy, he comin’ with me
dog sh+t, twenty racks in dubs and a bunch of fifties
i just poured a four of wock’ in a pathwater
me and skub shot up dog black charger out a pathfinder
chased him on feet for two miles, had my ass tired
potato on the .357, got the strap quiet
bro just turned pints of wock’ to twenty, he a scientist
just know the drank comin’ from the pharm’ if i’m buyin’ it
her baby daddy walked in on us f+ckin’, d+mn near died with her
he acted like he was goin’ to get his strap, i went outside with him

[verse 3: rmc mike]
ray brought them choppers out, well, i’m a glock shooter
she say her brother like to k!ll sh+t, well, i pop shooters
overdose, take the lean bottle, pour a pop into it
my favorite thing is gettin’ my d+ck sucked while i drop music
how you up some dog sh+t, but you don’t own a crib?
one shot hit him in his stomach, he got an open rib
walk in the house, k!ll everything, then post the crib
man, she been f+ckin’ for some years, her p+ssy ocean big
give a n+gga smoke quick as h+ll when i tote the sig
this b+tch said take her to dubai, what kinda ho you is?
ten racks to perform in the club, what kinda show you did?
she said, “i sucked the skin off your d+ck,” i’m like, “i know you did”
back to the guns, i just bought a brand new drac’ last night
she said she tryna drink, b+tch pulled up with a glass pint
man, this b+tch p+ssy way tighter than the bag tie
it’s a blowout, we up by thirty+five and it’s halftime



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