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shotta fam - no chorus, pt. 3 lyrics

[intro: nle choppa]
ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy

[verse 1: nle choppa]
man down, man down, screaming, “redrum”
n-gga play with me, get stepped on
baby mexico, b-tch, i’m teflon
more sticks than the army in vietnam
slow your road, lil’ homie, this sh-t can get ugly
two fingers and a thumb, b-tch, you know what’s up with me
you reach for my chain, get put on the news
my n-ggas, they steppin’, they kickin’ the .2
you run up on me, run up on who?
that .40 gon’ knock a n-gga out his shoes
i keep me a bible, it stay on my right
i keep me a .30, it stay on my left
i step back and shoot, i’m comin’ like steph
ballin’ too hard, i don’t need a ref
ice on my wrist and it look like some p-ss
flexin’ too hard, i live like i’m lit
thinkin’ i’m blind, i keep me a stick
i pull up on you and i bet that b-tch hit
mama, i’m sorry, i know i don’t listen
this life that i’m living, i know it get wicked
ho, least call your phone, you say that i’m trippin’
i’m tryna think smarter, make better decisions

[verse 2: big k mula]
this shotta fam sh-t in my dna
that draco kickin’ hard, johnny k
it cut your -ss just like the ace of spades
and your money funny, pockets damon wayans
you a kobe, i’m a mj, the man ain’t wanna be just like you
i’m the bomb like isis, keep on my style like i’m tyson, sippin’ drink like the vikings
cheese on your head, that’s a packers fan
p-ssy switch sides, n-gga, that’s a fan
they don’t wanna be me, d-mn, he’s a [?]
back pocket, left side, blue flag
trappin’ with them bowls, basketball on christmas
runnin’ ’round some traffic, call it ant miller
hater droppin’ sauce like i’m superst-tious
f-cked your b-tchin’ sister, alcohol, you l!cked her
la-la-la-la, the way be dressin’, my sauce drippin’, thousand island
uh-huh, i make that ho suck on the x, i feel like i’m chyna (suck it)
need more [?], baby shawn, that’s a new star lineup
three rings like a binder, that .40 kick him back, recliner

[verse 3: dee bentley]
never sell a n-gga where you stay, that’s the street code
n-gga just tryna get rich, that’s a rico
nice big rack, got me looking out the peephole
how you get cops that be f-ckin’ with a freak ho?
shotta fam run sh-t, fire is the east coast
hit a n-gga head from the line, that’s a free throw
marshawn lynch, then the trap go beast mode
plug on the phone right now, that’s a cheap bowl
pardon me? didn’t know this was part three?
nah, cutie, move it back, cutie, stack the [?] three
dang, my n-gga gang, he’ll k!ll you in a heartbeat
pay him when he done, i won’t let him do the job free, okay

[verse 4: og chuccy]
we run the city, pull up your block and we with it
we ain’t muggin’, you go get it, chopper glizzy with extension
when i pull up on your ho, we had the same intentions
i send them hitters and they blizten
we ain’t squashin’ sh-t, n-gga, f-ck was you intendin’?
it’s shotta fam, i’m the lieutenant, i never fold, nah, n-gga, i ain’t bendin’
f-ckin’ with shottas, this sh-t get colossal, them choppers get to singin’ just like an opera
you gon’ try to run, the bullet gon’ drop you, wrap him up, pick him up, get him a doctor
we ’bout a dollar for chasing these b-tches, quit callin’ my phone, b-tch, i’m still in the kitchen
f-ck your intentions, i’m chasin’ these riches, got no type of [?] done, none of the b-tches
get put on the [?], b-tch, you took off for a ticket
playing [?], you get fist quick, youngins goin’ on a mission
pull up with hit sticks, they’ll never know what hit them
i love my dawgs, they all vicious, ain’t none of that b-tch sh-t, they all quick to hit the k!ll switch
if he want smoke, he get [?], whatever, who with it?
if it’s up, i’ma send it

[verse 5: kabana]
shotta fam heroes on the map, yeah, we on one
playin’ ’round get you whacked, t-shirt, now he on somethin’
bags out the bags out the bags, we extort him
saying, “[?], wash your car and [?], i can snort it”
hit her on, hitters is never to work
[?] his house, [?] mine’s persian
bankrolls and bankrolls, [?] over thirty
watch that lil’ n-gga, he’ll do you dirty
everybody ’round me gettin’ money, ain’t no handouts
shots fired broad day, it gon’ wear your mans out
put me in the middle of a ride, i bet i stand out
gang in this b-tch, a hundred deep, we brought the land out
handsome, ain’t no handguns, them just dracos
layin’ on me, pull up to zaza’s, i need a fake, oh
i’m drinking redrum, voices in my head, i hate those
i get on go mode, out my body, shottas on my say-so
chuccy a demon, bentley a [?], mula, we need him, choppa gon’ sing

- shotta fam lyrics

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