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YoungBoy Never Broke Again – Bop [ Lyrics ] Letra YoungBoy Never Broke Again YoungBoy Never Broke Again – Bop [ Lyrics ]
Just run that beat from lil’ Ken)
Look, look

Chorus
My brother Big E
He keep that chopper on his shoulder (He keep that chop)
Oh, he a soldier (Oh, he’ll pop you, nigga)
My brother 3Three (Baow)
He get the drop so I can fold ya (Oh, that beat bangin’, nigga)
I thought I told ya
Verse 1
Hold on, my wife not mine
Got diamonds on and that’ll blind ya
Pussy nigga, I been grindin’, I been shinin’
I done fucked my bag up (Huh), and I ain’t scared to tell nobody
I’m gon’ have another sixty M’s in my pocket ‘fore next year end
Play with Top, way quick, they pop your top, know they get killed, man
Got her out her top, your bitch a bop, gone off that santan
Got no time for these hoes pussy poppin’, where my money, man?
Know thе FBI been tryna stop me, I need VPN
Bitch better quit that poppin’ ‘forе you fuck around, get your mans spinned
Know my youngin pop him, bitch, I cut up like a madman
Outside, bitch, we poppin’, bitch, we poppin’, spin that Yeat again
Hit your block with switches, then we repeat like a ceiling fan
Refill up at Conoco, walk ‘round with that Calico, we got all type of poles
‘Fore I blast you, strike a pose, bitch, watch your soul go
Strike him with this bitch, that cutter flashin’ like T Romo
Cut up like my daddy, bitch, Montana kill you, you want smoke
Bitch, float your boat, you better not choke, boy, you a ho
Bitch, we gon’ beat the last side, we’re still together, that’s how that go
R.I.P. Dump, now I done seen this once before
Yeah, ain’t no problem, I say

Chorus
My brother Big E
He keep that chopper on his shoulder
Oh, he a soldier
My brother 3Three
He get the drop so I can fold ya
I thought I told ya
Y’all boys want beef
We catch you slippin’ and we dome ya
We walk down on ya, look
Verse 2
Hit the bitch in his face like back to back
They won’t realize him and that’s facts
We turn your son into a pack, we blew his noggin
Bitch, this gravedigger mountain, I can’t wait for Stunna Island
I’m recordin’ right now, do a song, and, bitch, it’s perfect stimulizin’
They won’t put that pistol on me, they use papers to decline me
Bitch, I’m thuggin’, I’ll send them slimes to fuck up your whole climate
She was fucked up, buy her a sugar bag and I won’t tell nobody
He was fucked up ‘bout that sugar bag, couldn’t pay his hit deposit
Play with me, but Meechy got me bad, so I gotta call up Brasi
He still fucked up, he wan’ talk ‘bout ads and how he beat up pockets
After all I see, I got this, my watch glisten, they gon’ watch this
I been thinkin’ I might need to go put caskets on my eyelids
Earlobes got shovels, and my G-Wag’ got that B in it
Step inside my lane, best come with pain, bitch, you get beat in
Weekends, I need my paper strong, wife need to hit Spain for a weekend
Bitch, find a plug around, don’t come back home until we deep in
I ain’t nowhere good, you’re gone
I need you back, don’t do no creepin’
These niggas holdin’ me down, I need to find me another rich friend
Shit, I need to sell some hitmans
Get contracts changed to contrast
No, you couldn’t stand up to that four-five, you died, you stupid dumbass
On my side, you get no pass
Tote big fires with green flags
We hop out, better run fast
Nigga, yeah
Chorus
My brother Big E
He keep that chopper on his shoulder
Oh, he a soldier
My brother 3Three
He get the drop so I can fold ya
I thought I told ya, yeah

Outro
Huh, ooh
Slatt, slatt, slatt, slatt
Oh yeah
Slatt, slatt, slatt, slatt
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