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nle choppa - choppa mem (corrected as best i could) lyrics

[intro]
i tell them open this whole thing up
you hear me?
this dj booker? everybody know dj booker, real talk
ayy, yeah, yeah

[verse 1]
i walk in the trap, b+tch get on the floor
b+tch you know i can’t, just give me the dope
he thought it was a joke, now he on the [?]
tied up with this glock and you know i’ma blow
ay, kidnap him then he give a headed
bullets come down from the top like confetti
i’ma take his gun if he try to sell it
should’ve rent a ups ’cause the pack get hеavy
get hit with this fire, b+tch i bet you gon’ hollеr
don’t f+ck with the snakes, but it’s some on my collar
and if he want a problem, bullets hit his partner
catchin’ plays in the field, polamalu
n+gga he ain’t dumb, he ain’t take nothin’ from me
wish a f+ck n+gga would take my money
exotic my runts, this sh+t is not crummy
he tried to ride my wave, you know that i saunt him
they like “what is you smokin’?”
lil’ b+tch it’s the wrap of weed
i keep watching my back ’cause i know n+ggas after me
if i dump the whole clip i know dreek gon’ shoot after me
b+tch its murder for hire, you can’t join the faculty
b+tch, i’m clutchin’ my glock while i eat at the applebee’s
b+tch i’m high as the sky, i’m up in with the [?]
b+tch i’m no longer 13 don’t gotta look after me
b+tch i’m handin’ out shots like i’m making a daiquiri
“nle ain’t got no money”
ha, ha, ha, lil’ b+tch you funny
“nle ain’t out here gunning”
i’ll get a n+gga wrapped up like a mummy
i did it again, repeating them sins
that n+gga fruity, put him in a blender
if a n+gga want smoke, we gon’ make him surrender
[?] my n+ggas some [?]
[interlude]
get him out of here
get him out of here, go
get him out of here joe
get him out of here[?]
given no pt, they get hit with the 7.62’s
[?]
came in this b+tch with the glock
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[verse 2]
bring it back in, i’ma come a lil’ different this time
always gotta keep [?]
bullets hit through your spine
get a n+gga whacked, then put him in a rhyme
jiffy cornbread[?]
[?]
[?] makes you sayin’ he plottin’ on that sh+t
it’s bodies with this sh+t
it’s wet like toilet, potties in this b+tch
bin laden with this stick
my n+ggas sendin’ shots up in this b+tch
yo’ n+ggas gettin’ hit
you know i love my glock, my favorite stick
we always in some sh+t, yeah no cap
hotbox the drop+top
[?]
put the dope up in my sock
the police tried to take my [?]
my b+tch assist in everything because she gave the drop
i got the [?] up in that grease and fry ’em like a tater tot
’cause i’m really that n+gga, they know i’ma step
and i keep me a gun, they say i’m a ref
my bullets [?] we ain’t worried ’bout no trouble
[?]
b+tch i’m up on gang i [?]
i put him on a leash ’cause my bullets gon’ [?]
and my shooter a red watch, he k!ll if i tell him ayy
[outro]
top shotta
[?] f+ck n+gga, lay down
nle the top shotta
drac’ sound
drac’ sound
make a n+gga lay down
f+ck you talkin’ ’bout
i really just [?]

- nle choppa lyrics

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