nle choppa - og love lyrics
[verse 1]
yeah, yeah, i pray to the lord my soul to keep, cause these b+tch n+ggas after me
my glock in my lap, but the drac’ in my seat
you can get smoked like some wrapper weed
when these n+ggas see me you know they gon’ speak
and you know these n+ggas dapping me
but they be the same n+ggas that be d+ck ridin’ on the internet bashing me
dolce & gabbana, i got me some drip
she say she want kids, put some on her lip
i’ma bend that b+tch over, hit hеr from the rear
b+tch, i beat up hеr guts while i bite on her ear
man a n+gga was broke had to find me a crib
and i’ll get a n+gga whacked and i won’t shed a tear
real ass gangsta, real ass thug
all the og’s show me love
ay, real ass shooter, i never hesitate
i have a n+gga askin’ for the call to the heaven gates
had too much fake around i had to separate
i sat at the table ain’t had no food on the plate
pray to the lord, i hope i see better days
still got some n+ggas that stuck up on section a
shots at the trap so i had to evacuate (hey, hey, yeah)
[verse 2]
rich ass n+gga with a whole lotta stacks
run off on me, you get shot in your back
and i keep me a gun, i never lack
and i’m f+ckin’ this b+tch with no strings attached
and you know i’m a crip, my n+gga a slatt
i’ll get a n+gga whacked if he turn to a rat
and this sh+t is no cappin’ i don’t like hats
b+tch this life that i’m livin’ i put it in raps
pole never fold so i had the zip+zip
on the block with the gang, with the glock on my hip
crack him on coke, but i got me a sip
got to whippin’ in the kitchen i ain’t even gonna slip
white b+tch want a molly, but i got perkies
should i catch me a body? it ain’t worth it
gotta clean this .30, finna get dirty
got away with murder one time, so i ain’t worried
reload on your block then i let off some shots
how you gon’ run from me when i got a red dot?
on the block in the sun, b+tch i think i’m a rock
put this pole in his face and he gone with them shots
b+tch, you strafe when you aim, so i know you nervous
these n+ggas they b+tches, they scared of the surgeon
this gun on my side, so i’m never worried
and b+tch when i die put my face on the jersey
all these n+gga plottin’ on me
just know that i keep the rocket on me
never leave the house without this burner on me
that explains why the oppositions runnin’ from me
i play the drac’ like a guitar
and my glock got a d+ck like a p+rnstar
real jamaican, i hang with the rastas
and i keep me a choppa for robbers
ay, picture me with this 23
slidin’ on your street, ’bout four deep
spin the block one time, two times, three times like it was a repeat
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