paroles de chanson Chicago to Memphis (feat. G Herbo) - G Herbo , NLE Choppa

Nigga fuck
Fuck nigga, fuck nigga, fuck nigga
(Run that back, Playboi)

Raise the murder rate
Anytime a nigga play, we raise the murder rate
Broad day, let thirty shots off and we skrrt away
Park the car, don't drop off
I be frontline when it pop off
When it's crunch time, make him hot sauce
Homicide, gon' take his block off
Let the Glock off, knock yo' top off
Ayy, watch him fly away
Tryna stay up out them streets, I had to fly away
Mama pray, I'm too deep in the streets to stop, I can't
Really rich, I woke up, thought to buy that watch, I ain't
I bank at five banks
In my hood, I'm hall of fame
I'm on that nine rate
Changed the game,
I showed my niggas how to play, I got away (I got away)
Still ain't put that fire away, you wanna die? Just try today
My mind right, I'm flying straight, I prolly walk away
Plus, I know you niggas hoes, just act tough and talk away
Eighteen got sacked up and strapped up, just off a play
And I ain't hiding, I'm in LA, I'm in a Lamb, I'm in valet

Ayy, switch out thе tags and the VIN, 'cause I wanna spin again
Couple shots in thе FN, the rest of 'em in his friend
Ain't enough money in this world that'll make me cross a friend
Ain't enough loyalty in the world for you to comprehend
Freaky bitch, I beat her back until it bend and it break
Gave me head up in the Cat, I put the police on the chase
Came in her mouth, got away, and still ain't ever hit the breaks
Asked her, was she fine? She said her hair fucked up but she okay
I'm as cutthroat as it get,
And I'm 'bout as grimy as a ho (Grimy as a ho)
Glizzy gotta match my fit or I ain't steppin' out the door
Thirty shots, it wasn't enough, so I got fifty at the most
Scratch the serial up out this bitch,
Now both of y'all are ghost (Brr, brr, brr)
Get my jewelry from Flawless Diamonds,
But my bitch go to Watkins (Go to Watkins)
Might get a Urus on perfect timing, just to say I bought it
Niggas weird, they sneak dissin' on me,
And damn right I caught it (Damn right I caught it)
A couple weeks later, we had his momma picking coffins
This that shit that have you going a hunnid on the E-way
Stop the car and let me out, I left him layin' on the freeway
Got niggas shooting behind and after me, like its a relay
Blow his candles out his candlelight,
Call it a murder B-day (Br-brr-brr-brr)
Fuck the scoreboard nigga, you could check the stat sheet
Run shit down like Sha'Carri in the track meet
Put him in the backseat, then kill him on the backstreet
Two shooters the tag team, his noodles on concrete (Concrete)
Nigga
Business is what we standing on
Bullets hit his back, tell him to show it off like it's VLONE
Few things I don't play about, money and respect, and my drones
You see me, might play around, but I got bodies on my dome
Shot a nigga at fifteen, I never looked back since
Slam dunk a opp, my arm in the rim like I'm Vince
Purple bandanna, purple outfit, purple rain,
Like I'm Prince (Crip, crip, crip, crip, crip, crip)
I'm a money makin' nigga but I can't
Go out like Mitch (Brrt, brrt, brrt)
I bet them bullets change his subject
Why you stop sucking my dick
Bitch, you seen I ain't nut yet (The fuck)
Niggas can talk all they want, I still ain't been touched yet
Brodie tell me chill, he know I kill,
But nigga, fuck that (Nigga fuck that)
Cause if I don't get him, they got me (Brrt)
If I don't feel them they body (Brrt)
Put 33 in them, Scottie, no Pippen (Brrt)
Them bullets hit him, inject him, he feel 'em like penicillin
We put niggas pass the ceiling, in the sky giving God a visit
Murder, murder, killing, killing
Dirty .30 filled with sinnin'
For certain,
I'm murkin' a person thinking that I ain't with it (I ain't with it)
Close the curtain, hospital visions
We flatlinin' them bitches, double back
Now that them niggas hit up his spine, now he Crippin' (Brrr)

Spine now he Crippin', nigga
Crip, nigga
NLE the Top Shotta (Shotta), got the bombs like Al-Qaeda (Al-Qaeda)
Like what man? I'll drop 'em (Br-brr)
Man, I'll slaughter, nigga
These niggas know what we standin' on