MEM Lyrics – NLE Choppa
(FreshDuzIt)
You hear me?
DJ Booker
Yeah man, DJ Booker, real talk
Ayy, yeah, yeah
I walk in the trap, *** get on the floor
*** you know why I came, just give me the ***
He thought it was a joke, now he on the floor
Tied up with this Glock and you know I’ma blow
Ay, *** him then he give a headed
Bullets come down from the top like confetti
I’ma take his *** if he try to sell it
Should’ve rent a UPS ’cause the pack get heavy
Get hit with this fire, *** I bet you gon’ holler
Don’t *** 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
*** he ain’t dumb, he ain’t take nothin’ from me
Wish a *** *** would take my money
Exotic my runts, this *** is not crummy
He tried to ride my wave, you know that I sonned him
They like “what is you smokin’?”
Lil’ *** it’s the rapper ***
I keep watching my back ’cause I know niggas after me
If I dump the whole clip I know Dreek gon’ shoot after me
*** it’s *** for hire, you can’t join the faculty
***, I’m clutchin’ my Glock while I eat at the Applebee’s
*** I’m *** as the sky, I’m up here with the factories
*** I do my own dirt, you ain’t gotta look after me
*** I’m handin’ out shots like I’m making a daiquiri
“NLE ain’t got no money”
Ha, ha, ha, lil’ *** you funny
“NLE ain’t out here gunning”
I’ll get a *** wrapped up like a mummy
I did it again, repeated offender
If he acting fruity, put him in a blender
If a *** want smoke, we gon’ make him surrender
He was breaking the rules, my niggas suspend him
Get him out of here
Get him out of here
He breaking the rules, my niggas suspend him
They don’t get no pity, they get hit with the 7.62’s
We keep straps like suspenders, no cap
Came in this *** with the Glock
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Bring it back in, I’ma come a lil’ different this time
Always gotta keep me two nines
Glock 19 put a hit through your spine
Get a *** whacked, then put him in a rhyme
Jiffy cornbread, think she want some jiffy cornbread ***
I put it in and makes her saying that he plotting on a jit
It’s bodies with this ***
Get wet like toilet, potties in this ***
Bin Laden with this stick
My niggas sendin’ shots up in this ***
Yo’ niggas gettin’ hit
You know I love my Glock, my favorite stick
We always in some ***, no cap
I just hotboxed the drop-top
Threw away a hot Glock
Put the *** up in my sock, the police tried to search my crotch
*** I thank my sister every day because she gave the drops
Put that boy up in that grease and fry ’em like a tater tot
Cause I’m really that ***, they know I’ma stepper
And I keep me a ***, they say I’m a rebel
***, my bullets got bass we ain’t worried ’bout no treble
Boy who is you talkin, to? You better settle
*** I’m a volcano, ’cause I’m finna melt him
Put him on a leash ’cause my bullets gon’ pet him
And my shooter brainwashed, he *** if I tell him
*** if I tell him
Hunnid round drum for a *** ***, lay down
NLE the Top Shotta
Got a whole motherfuckin’ K round and the Drac’ sound
Love the way the Drac’ sound
Make a *** lay down
*** is you talkin’ ’bout
I really just ran that
