Tag: NLE Choppa

NLE Choppa – We See You ( Lyrics ) Letra NLE CHOPPA NLE Choppa – We See You ( Lyrics Letra )
Yeah, yeah
Ayy, ayy, ayy

Try to run from the sweets, we catch him (Come here)
Dumbass ain’t make it too far
Whole lotta shots in the car (Brrt, brrt, brrt)
I shoot to the mall (Mall)
I didn’t know how to shoot, I was learnin’ (I was learnin’)
Target practice was on their squad (Squad)
I was gone on a spiritual journey
Now, I’m back sendin’ niggas to God
Give him more shots, he ain’t had enough (Nope)
Only give head taps, so, he better duck (Duck)
Opp pack, roll him up, then take a puff (Puff)
He still be alive, you ain’t gas him up (Up)
We don’t shoot through doors, no way (No way)
Hit the window, for sure he [?]
Still hit a nigga block with a throwaway (Throwaway)
Catch him, beat him till the gun break (Gun break)

Leg shot, stanky leg, welcome to funky town
No aim (Mhm) when I spray
Why? Got a hundred round
Rich nigga with a bougie dick, yeah, I’m quick to turn a bad bitch down (Turn her down)
Back then, hoes didn’t want me, Mike Jones, what about now?

Play pussy, then you fucked, okay (Okay)
Any minute, have shit my way (My way)
Stand on everything that I say (I say)
God can strike me here, today (Today)
Fresh as hell, might strike a pose
If they right, I’ll suck her toes
Big dick made her ditch her Rolls
Fuck her till she pigeon-toed

Wait till we see you (Come here), walk ‘em down (Do it)
Wait till we see you (Come here), walk ‘em down (Do it)
Why would we miss you? It’s a hundred round
Why would we miss you? It’s a hundred round

I was just fuckin’ a bitch, you was lovin’ a bitch
I ain’t cuffin’ no bitch, I ain’t trustin’ no bitch
He ain’t duckin’ this switch, if I hit it, it glitch
I want him on the pit with a sack till it miss
I ain’t runnin’ from shit, in the mix like some grits
Need a new wig how I’m stiff on a bitch

Well, I talk about it, talk about it
Talk about it, talk about it

Ayy, swerve it, Hellcat, we [?]
‘Cause we put niggas on jerseys (On jerseys)
She a BBL away from gettin’ fucked
Got buns surgery (Surgery)
Don’t come around when we thirty
‘Bout to clean a nigga in a hurry (Hurry)
My lil’ niggas hit you up off a few Skittles and a Perky (Damn)
These bitches know how I play (Play)
Ayy, fuck my ex, she dead (Dead)
Don’t ask if one in the head (Ah, ah)
That’s like askin’ us, wasn’t they dead? (What?)
Plug nigga, talkin’ tough to a slug, hit him (Pow)
Bullets hit him, make love with him

Wait till we see you, walk ‘em down
Wait till we see you, walk ‘em down
Why would we miss you? It’s a hundred round
Why would we miss you? It’s a hundred round

Leg shot, stanky leg, welcome to funky town
No aim when I spray
Why? Got a hundred round
Rich nigga with a bougie dick, yeah, I’m quick to turn a bad bitch down
Back then, hoes didn’t want me, Mike Jones, what about now?

Well, I talk about it, talk about it
Talk about it, talk about it
Lyrics, Letras, Paroles, Deutsche, Letras, Testi,Тексты, Texty, Norske, Текстови, Versuri, Persian, Liricí, Lirik, Nederlandse, Tagalog

NLE Choppa – DOPE feat. Fivio Foreign (Official Video) Lyrics
[NLE Choppa:]
Yeah
Nah, nah, nah, nah
Nah, nah, nah

Dope, money, green, nah, nah, nah, nah
Cold money, clean it, nah, nah, nah, nah

[Fivio Foreign:]
Niggas’ll kill you for what you believe in
I bought a new.40 for no reason
It’s gettin’ cold, so it’s comin’ to season
He caught a body, he comin’ through, cheesin’
We ain’t with none of the cryin’ and grievin’
You know that my shooters is dyin’ to see them
Niggas can’t find him, he hidin’, we seekin’
He in the city, he dyin’ this weekend
I take a Percocet, it keep me calm
None of them niggas is doin’ me harm
None of my bitches is doin’ me wrong
I keep a smile, I ain’t losin’ my charm
I know the feds listen to this music
So I never say what I do in these songs
He send the addy, he pull up, we gone
Up close, so I ain’t shootin’ from long (Baow)

[NLE Choppa:]
Dope, money, greed, nah, nah, nah, nah
Cold money, clean it, nah, nah, nah, nah

Ayy, duffel-bag for the money, what the business is?
All across the world, servin’ it from sin to sin
I’ma make shit stretch, ‘til the end of end
On my knees every night, but I’ma sin again
Shorty low, I can’t say I don’t know better
Big stepper, ‘til my toes start hurtin’
Get him killed, then write him a murder letter
Through subliminals in my verses
Big chain on my neck, finna break my neck
Need a brace for my neck, mmm-hmm
Ho’ brain with the best, I ain’t feelin’ her sex
So her best friend next, mmm-hmm
Call collects to charter jets
Then Billboard charts happen next (We gone)
Got the big flex on my ex
Hold it over her head, ‘til she meet her death
Declined my calls and missed my text
I know them hoes regret
I’m numb on a ho’, I ain’t feelin’ ‘em
He could be with the kid, we gon’ kill ‘em
Get the drop, then you know I’m a sinner
No tags on the whip, no rentals
Ayy, hop out, let me see them feet work, nigga
We ain’t finna shoot out no window

Dope, money, greed, nah, nah, nah, nah
Cold money, clean it, nah, nah, nah, nah
Dope, money, greed, nah, nah, nah, nah
Cold money, clean it, nah, nah, nah, nah

Lyrics, Letras, Paroles, Deutsche, Letras, Testi,Тексты, Texty, Norske, Текстови, Versuri, Persian, Liricí, Lirik, Nederlandse, Tagalog

NLE Choppa – Ain’t Gonna Answer Feat. Lil Wayne [Official Video] Lyric
Chorus
Don’t be worried bout what we be doing
What we doing making money
What they doing hating on us
If you want it take from me
What them other Niggas
I don’t know cause Ion stunt
Mind my business on my momma
Fuck a nigga how I’m coming

Big booty bitch made her back her ass up
Shots out the switch made him bag ass man up
Say she yo bitch she my private dancer
You can call her phone but she ain’t answer

Go go go go
I’m known to turn a bitch up talking way pass the ceiling go
She gone fuck me cause these carrots like a rabbit silly hoe
My nigga throwing percocets bike like a Willy hoe

From the city of Memphis we known for macing and Pimpin
but I’m hot boy I can’t lie I got some wheezy up In me
You know that shit a greasy im in the streets like meter
She telling me that she need me but lord know she eater

Aye tell em drop his nuts he holding to much tension in balls
Made em run a 4 flat but he was six feet
Like a high school I’m tryna hit all y’all

Yea I seen stumble but I’m tryna see em fall fall

Shake it she was fully dressed now she naked
Back shots front shots make bitches shapeshift
Ready for the cumshot I told her to taste it
Bad bitches Chase me I use to fuck basics
She asking for my raw dog hoe you get a latex
I’m ball deep in her jaws make a bitch say less
Swallow my nut or yo friend the replacement
Put her on her knees yea I call that good graces

Chorus
Don’t be worried bout what we be doing
What we doing making money
What they doing hating on us
If you want it take from me
What them other Niggas
I don’t know cause Ion stunt
Mind my business on my momma
Fuck a nigga how I’m coming

Big booty bitch made her back her ass up
Shots out the switch made him bag ass man up
Say she yo bitch she my private dancer

(Lil Wayne Verse)
She said come here, she said get here
She said stop playing Nigga, bring that dick here
Oo I got bitches waitin to see me like a premiere

Oo And her mouth be full of semen, look like veneers
Oo Don’t be worried bout what I’m doing, doing be worried bout who I’m doing
Don’t be worried bout who I’m foolin, all these Percocet I be chewin’
All these birkin and these louies, got her twerking hella booty
She said throw that dick like tunchi, she gon’ catch it like a movie
I be asking bitches out, leave her at that nigga house
Never thought I’d leave my kids until I love em then I’m out
I be stretching bitches out, you be stressin bitches out
I’m like Lionel Messi, kickin messy bitches out
Girl you workin with some ass hat, smack it with my bad hand
Oo she got that fat cat, I give that cat a cat scan
From a hot boy to a mad men, that high water or hell deep
Call him NLE you can call me Machiavelli
Shirt off, Choppa on, Wheezy baby, I belong
I’m greedy baby, ramadan, I got my slimes with me, it’s a slime-athon
Wake up with Balenciaga pajamas on with two bitches
Check my phone, new pictures, I check your ass like the new twitter

Chorus
Don’t be worried bout what we be doing
What we doing making money
What they doing hating on us
If you want it take from me
What them other Niggas
I don’t know cause Ion stunt
Mind my business on my momma
Fuck a nigga how I’m coming

Big booty bitch made her back her ass up

Shots out the switch made him bag ass man up
Say she yo bitch she my private dancer
You can call her phone and I’ll probably answer
Go (16x)

Lyrics, Letras, Paroles, Deutsche, Letras, Testi,Тексты, Texty, Norske, Текстови, Versuri, Persian, Liricí, Lirik, Nederlandse, Tagalog