[Verse 1: Drake]
Took niggas out the hood like I'm from there
So you know it's all good when I come there
I hear you talk about your city like you run that
And I brought my tour to your city, you my son there, nigga
But I had to come through for the remix
On my haven’t-done-a-verse-in-eight-weeks shit
And if a nigga say my name, he the hot shit
But if I say the nigga name, he still the hot shit
Fucked up, lucky I don't feed into the gossip
Niggas act like they don't know, but they should know
Yeah, I just think it's funny how they dangling the bait
But I'm the one that's killing niggas on the hooks, though
And niggas ain't got a grill, still ice-grill hating
I know y'all already know Mike Will Made It
Just looking at thе numbers, nigga, I feel amazing
I'll call Michael Jordan up and Mike will makе it
I'm the young rap nigga with the 'Melo deal
You need to come to OVO for a better deal
Just know a million ain't shit once you get a mil'
And niggas say it’s all good
That’s how you better feel, nigga, nah!
Fuck that, this year I'm talking big stuff
Rolling through the city like a young nigga bricked up
Fuck niggas gon' be fuck niggas
That's why we never gave a fuck
When a fuck nigga switched up, damn!
[Verse 2: ScHoolboy Q]
Frontin' like you really on that bullshit
Gun him down, make a motherfucker do a full flip, chip chip
Nigga really really on that Crip shit
Bisquick whip, whip, whip, nigga, move it!
Got the toolie, yeah, the piece, I'mma use it
Nigga ruthless, leave a chump nigga toothless
Tell him "smooches", got that white girl
Get a tan when I ice her, Arm and Hammer
Mixin' venom like a viper, you the buyer
I'm the nigga with the fire, you's a minor
Now I'm major with the paper, coppin' acres
Overseas like a sailor, you a hater
And ya daddy in the same boat, you a busta when ya chain go
Pourin' syrup on my Eggo, four liters for the eight though
To the face, now the day slow, you's a fruity lil' rainbow
Real nigga, call me Django, 50 seconds till the say low
Wild bucks shootin' halos, every pocket got a bank roll
I don't think you really understand me (stand me)
Groovy Q ain't keep the nose candy (candy)
[Verse 3: Fat Trel]
Nigga tell me how you want it with a savage
It get crazy where I'm living it's tragic
If you can take it from my pocket you can have it
You know I got a body bag in the trash
You know I got an old thot you can have
Nigga couldn't fuck my old bitch
Niggas couldn't eat my old pussy
I'm in the kitchen I could tell you how the stove looking
Nigga all I really wanted was the pyrex
A couple hundred body snatchers in the projects
You know my plug stay connected like direct
I'm in Miami my bitches like "where Lebron at?"
I finish fucking her and finish like "where your mom at?"
In front the coppers I got choppers for the combat
Couldn't believe it my niggas say he was sellin' grenades
Keep bullshittin' and ima sit you where the bomb at
D.C. nigga, sittin wrist whip dough
He ain't know a chopper price get this low
See I cop em' in Atlanta bring em' back to Alabama Avenue
And tell them niggas "come and get it let's go"
Fifty in the Mac take em' back to Benning Road
Strippa bitches in my kitchen with the semi's on the floor
All I know I want him dead by tonight
With his head in his lap and his body at the light
Purchase me some Act and I'm a pour me some Sprite
Tell a bitch keep counting till she get the count right
When a bitch finish might purchase her a flight
Might take her whole life
Might fuck her all night
Right, you know I hate to say it twice
But you pussy ass niggas ain't bout that life
Pussy ass niggas ain't bout that life
Pussy ass niggas ain't bout that life
[Verse 4: Meek Mill]
Thirty in the clip catch the whole thing
Feds know a nigga by his whole name
Shoot him in his head for his gold chain
You was running ball, we was sellin' cocaine
Talkin bout you buyin' bricks, nigga you ain't got shit
We was sellin' all them keys, we was like the locksmith
Twenty-Five hundred for the red bottoms
Balmain five bands for the waist nigga
I'm rollin' through my city in a new Rolls Royce
Cheif Keef 300 for the Wraith nigga
A.K, S.K, H.K nigga, three K's like I hate niggas
And I'll put you in your place nigga
You got shoebox money I got a safe nigga holdup
[Verse 5: Rick Ross]
Automatic pistol on a nigga leather seat
See a bad bitch she my jam of the week
All I ever wanted was a kilo
Till they hit my little nigga with the RICO
Bitches lookin' at me, Keisha look at all this change
It's the heart of war tour bus full of K's
Master P money I could pull up in a tank
C Murda shooter know a pill on the way
Still [?]
Rich niggas coming through you broke niggas better move
At your front door got word you got work
3.5 for the key of the purp
Now six figures for this fat niggas verse
All eyes on me as I'm walking through the church
Prayin' lord forgive me, 30 shots in the semi
I done paid all of my tithes now it's time to go and get it
My new plug don't fuck with the cut
My new bitch gettin' fucked in the butt
Ridin' by the [?] see me sitting in the trunk
Niggas say they coming threw but they see me strapped up, what
Nigga runnin' in your house for the brown bag
Feds wanna know how much in the brown bag
Nigga swinging that stick for the brown bag
Your bitch even saw my number on the brown bag
All I ever wanted was Kilo
Till they hit my lil' woe with the Rico
Sippin' on purp niggas still got a pint
Still moving work nigga ooh what night
Ooh what a night, ooh what a night
Post a picture of that pussy get 200 likes
200 likes all that bitch getting from me is them 200 likes
[Verse 6: Jeezy]
Made the Forbes and I'm straight up outta projects
Still running with them niggas with that work check
It go "Brrrrrrrr" with the choppa
That's the only way the pussy 'posed to stop ya
Pour out a little liquor, one in every got a ghetto
Stack a 20 bill, nigga, tall as Carmelo
Winter olympic games and the categories caine
Bet ya one fuckin' thing, I'll win a gold medal
Why ya actin' like a bitch? Lil Jon, my nigga
Don't you ever doubt me, I'm like LeBron, my nigga
I ain't takin' no shorts, bitch, I hit it with the fork
Fuck a wrist game, use my whole arm, my nigga
Snowman, bitch, y'all know me
Fourth quarter pressure on 'em like Kobe
Act like my shit don't stink, pocket feel like a bank
Neck lookin' like a 40 ounce of O.E
Tell me why my album selling, they ain't murder me yet
If they do, bury me in a burgundy 'Vette
Talk behind my back, you could hate me all ya want
But them same fuck niggas ain't shot shit yet
Yeah, you see me on Gangland, as real as it get
They just rappin' about it, I was livin' that shit
Straight up
[Chorus: Future]
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit
Talkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit
All you talk 'nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit
[Bridge: T.I.]
This for my niggas when they walk up out the house, they (turn it)
Fuck what ya mouth say (turn it, turn it)
[Verse 7: T.I.]
Fully automatic rifle, 100 round drum on it with a scope
I done had that, nigga (Brrrrrrr, stick 'em)
I ain't playing with these niggas, just kill 'em, turn it
Nigga talk shit, I'll blast that nigga
Shoot his ass right in front his homeboys
Kill the party, drove off and then stab that nigga
Everyone vicinity hear the boy ho noise
I'm the Zone 1 king, from a whole one thing
Threw a 100 on it, shawty, I was doing my thing
You tryna get a million, I done did that
Aye, keep it pimpin', keep a ticket where I live at
Aye, listen, sucka, I got nothin' for ya but a new coffin
I'll shoot you walkin' 'fore you get through talkin', nigga!
Catch me walkin' in ya hood, trench coat swingin'
Mask on, step up on ya front porch bangin'
Them Bankhead niggas, they a muhfucka, ain't they?
I'm the realest, richest nigga that you know today famous
Catch ya flaggin' in ya hood and ya wanna be a gangsta
In ya skinny jeans in arenas entertainin'
No matter how you paint it, better see the big picture
I'll get ya, nigga, wit' ya, then hit ya nigga!
[Chorus: Future]
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit
Talkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit
All you talk 'nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags (Shit!), nigga, you ain't bought shit (Shit!)
Talkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles (Shit!), nigga, you ain't popped shit (Shit!)
All you talk 'Nana clips (Shit!), nigga, you ain't shot shit (Shit!)
Spending money on these hoes (Shit!), nigga, you ain't fuck shit (Shit!)
[Verse 8: Diddy]
I ain't tryna hear a whole bunch of that (shit)
About how many bodies you caught (shit)
My niggas is real thug niggas, them real niggas don't talk
Worldstar niggas get caught, wavin' all them guns at the cameras
Grown ass nigga, you ain't bout to shoot (shit), you don't do (shit)
You just think it's cool (shit) to move bricks
Real niggas do it cause they got to
I know them real niggas and it's not you
And if they see yo' ass round here frontin'
Real shooter be somewhere and shot you
Man, get the fuck out the booth poppin' that (shit)
Corny ass nigga just talkin' that (shit)
Heard about it, read about it, never been around it
But you think ya soft ass give somebody that (shit)
How you movin' round with ya ho?
You ain't even stickin' to the code
You don't even represent the life right
Pussy nigga sleepin' with a night light
Comin' for ya head like Fight Night
I can get anything done for the right price, boy!
(Bad Boy) Take that
[Interlude: Future & Juicy J]
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit Let's get it! (Ma-fi-UH!)
[Verse 9: Juicy J]
If money talk then your pockets ain't saying shit
I'm in the bathroom getting head from yo' bitch
And I ain't paying her shit
You want beef? You don't know who you playing with (Hey!)
I tell my pilot to land the jet (Hey!)
I'm hopping off, get 'em, we popping off (Hey!)
Give a click and you niggas dead where you standing at (Hey!)
I'm just a trippy nigga smoking on cabbage
Your money funny like Jim Carrey
I got a bitch and she super bad like Halle
And we still keeping that white like Barry
I'm a rich nigga, still keep a pistol with me
Nigga, you ain't fuckin' with a picture of me
I got all this cake and shooters with me
Just in case you pussy niggas try to get you a piece
What it is, my nigga? What it's hittin' for? (Hey!)
Where the car you were whippin' in you video? (Hey!)
Where the ice at, nigga? Where them pretty hoes? (Hey!)
You a fraud, real niggas already know (Hey!)
Broke-ass niggas, I can't stand 'em (Hey!)
I hit 'em with the cannon
I'm buying off the mall at random (Hey!)
Juicy J, that nigga fresh to death (Hey!)
Smoke it 'til it's nothing left
Peel off, then I'm ghost in my Phantom
[Interlude: Future]
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit
[Verse 10: Tracy T]
My killas got shooters on shooters
My killas got shooters on shooters
My killas got shooters on shooters
Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang
Knock em down hundred rounds, lotta pounds, kilograms on the ave
How you want it? Quarter thang, half thang, whole slab?
Young Atlanta nigga pull a hammer on ya
Pull up on a nigga in a California
Teach a lame how to flip a couple numbers
Whole summer dope runners getting more commers
Money got me geekin', damn I need more
Alejandro bringin' in them truckloads
Copy that, get racks, nigga ten-four
Choppa bullets just rip a nigga head off
Clip long as a little nigga leg dawg
Empty that and the barrel just smoke
Closed casket, nigga head open
Peel the top back, yeah I’m in the foreign
Wide body and it sittin' on Forgies
Choppa kick like Chuck Norris
Ralph Lauren, my engine full of horses
Aim game insane nigga I’m a marksman
Cocaine white y’all niggas flip porcelain
Blow worth a fortune, million on the fortress
Niggas totin' AK’s like they Glock 40’s
[Chorus: Future]
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit
Talkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit
All you talk 'nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit
Took niggas out the hood like I'm from there
So you know it's all good when I come there
I hear you talk about your city like you run that
And I brought my tour to your city, you my son there, nigga
But I had to come through for the remix
On my haven’t-done-a-verse-in-eight-weeks shit
And if a nigga say my name, he the hot shit
But if I say the nigga name, he still the hot shit
Fucked up, lucky I don't feed into the gossip
Niggas act like they don't know, but they should know
Yeah, I just think it's funny how they dangling the bait
But I'm the one that's killing niggas on the hooks, though
And niggas ain't got a grill, still ice-grill hating
I know y'all already know Mike Will Made It
Just looking at thе numbers, nigga, I feel amazing
I'll call Michael Jordan up and Mike will makе it
I'm the young rap nigga with the 'Melo deal
You need to come to OVO for a better deal
Just know a million ain't shit once you get a mil'
And niggas say it’s all good
That’s how you better feel, nigga, nah!
Fuck that, this year I'm talking big stuff
Rolling through the city like a young nigga bricked up
Fuck niggas gon' be fuck niggas
That's why we never gave a fuck
When a fuck nigga switched up, damn!
[Verse 2: ScHoolboy Q]
Frontin' like you really on that bullshit
Gun him down, make a motherfucker do a full flip, chip chip
Nigga really really on that Crip shit
Bisquick whip, whip, whip, nigga, move it!
Got the toolie, yeah, the piece, I'mma use it
Nigga ruthless, leave a chump nigga toothless
Tell him "smooches", got that white girl
Get a tan when I ice her, Arm and Hammer
Mixin' venom like a viper, you the buyer
I'm the nigga with the fire, you's a minor
Now I'm major with the paper, coppin' acres
Overseas like a sailor, you a hater
And ya daddy in the same boat, you a busta when ya chain go
Pourin' syrup on my Eggo, four liters for the eight though
To the face, now the day slow, you's a fruity lil' rainbow
Real nigga, call me Django, 50 seconds till the say low
Wild bucks shootin' halos, every pocket got a bank roll
I don't think you really understand me (stand me)
Groovy Q ain't keep the nose candy (candy)
[Verse 3: Fat Trel]
Nigga tell me how you want it with a savage
It get crazy where I'm living it's tragic
If you can take it from my pocket you can have it
You know I got a body bag in the trash
You know I got an old thot you can have
Nigga couldn't fuck my old bitch
Niggas couldn't eat my old pussy
I'm in the kitchen I could tell you how the stove looking
Nigga all I really wanted was the pyrex
A couple hundred body snatchers in the projects
You know my plug stay connected like direct
I'm in Miami my bitches like "where Lebron at?"
I finish fucking her and finish like "where your mom at?"
In front the coppers I got choppers for the combat
Couldn't believe it my niggas say he was sellin' grenades
Keep bullshittin' and ima sit you where the bomb at
D.C. nigga, sittin wrist whip dough
He ain't know a chopper price get this low
See I cop em' in Atlanta bring em' back to Alabama Avenue
And tell them niggas "come and get it let's go"
Fifty in the Mac take em' back to Benning Road
Strippa bitches in my kitchen with the semi's on the floor
All I know I want him dead by tonight
With his head in his lap and his body at the light
Purchase me some Act and I'm a pour me some Sprite
Tell a bitch keep counting till she get the count right
When a bitch finish might purchase her a flight
Might take her whole life
Might fuck her all night
Right, you know I hate to say it twice
But you pussy ass niggas ain't bout that life
Pussy ass niggas ain't bout that life
Pussy ass niggas ain't bout that life
[Verse 4: Meek Mill]
Thirty in the clip catch the whole thing
Feds know a nigga by his whole name
Shoot him in his head for his gold chain
You was running ball, we was sellin' cocaine
Talkin bout you buyin' bricks, nigga you ain't got shit
We was sellin' all them keys, we was like the locksmith
Twenty-Five hundred for the red bottoms
Balmain five bands for the waist nigga
I'm rollin' through my city in a new Rolls Royce
Cheif Keef 300 for the Wraith nigga
A.K, S.K, H.K nigga, three K's like I hate niggas
And I'll put you in your place nigga
You got shoebox money I got a safe nigga holdup
[Verse 5: Rick Ross]
Automatic pistol on a nigga leather seat
See a bad bitch she my jam of the week
All I ever wanted was a kilo
Till they hit my little nigga with the RICO
Bitches lookin' at me, Keisha look at all this change
It's the heart of war tour bus full of K's
Master P money I could pull up in a tank
C Murda shooter know a pill on the way
Still [?]
Rich niggas coming through you broke niggas better move
At your front door got word you got work
3.5 for the key of the purp
Now six figures for this fat niggas verse
All eyes on me as I'm walking through the church
Prayin' lord forgive me, 30 shots in the semi
I done paid all of my tithes now it's time to go and get it
My new plug don't fuck with the cut
My new bitch gettin' fucked in the butt
Ridin' by the [?] see me sitting in the trunk
Niggas say they coming threw but they see me strapped up, what
Nigga runnin' in your house for the brown bag
Feds wanna know how much in the brown bag
Nigga swinging that stick for the brown bag
Your bitch even saw my number on the brown bag
All I ever wanted was Kilo
Till they hit my lil' woe with the Rico
Sippin' on purp niggas still got a pint
Still moving work nigga ooh what night
Ooh what a night, ooh what a night
Post a picture of that pussy get 200 likes
200 likes all that bitch getting from me is them 200 likes
[Verse 6: Jeezy]
Made the Forbes and I'm straight up outta projects
Still running with them niggas with that work check
It go "Brrrrrrrr" with the choppa
That's the only way the pussy 'posed to stop ya
Pour out a little liquor, one in every got a ghetto
Stack a 20 bill, nigga, tall as Carmelo
Winter olympic games and the categories caine
Bet ya one fuckin' thing, I'll win a gold medal
Why ya actin' like a bitch? Lil Jon, my nigga
Don't you ever doubt me, I'm like LeBron, my nigga
I ain't takin' no shorts, bitch, I hit it with the fork
Fuck a wrist game, use my whole arm, my nigga
Snowman, bitch, y'all know me
Fourth quarter pressure on 'em like Kobe
Act like my shit don't stink, pocket feel like a bank
Neck lookin' like a 40 ounce of O.E
Tell me why my album selling, they ain't murder me yet
If they do, bury me in a burgundy 'Vette
Talk behind my back, you could hate me all ya want
But them same fuck niggas ain't shot shit yet
Yeah, you see me on Gangland, as real as it get
They just rappin' about it, I was livin' that shit
Straight up
[Chorus: Future]
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit
Talkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit
All you talk 'nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit
[Bridge: T.I.]
This for my niggas when they walk up out the house, they (turn it)
Fuck what ya mouth say (turn it, turn it)
[Verse 7: T.I.]
Fully automatic rifle, 100 round drum on it with a scope
I done had that, nigga (Brrrrrrr, stick 'em)
I ain't playing with these niggas, just kill 'em, turn it
Nigga talk shit, I'll blast that nigga
Shoot his ass right in front his homeboys
Kill the party, drove off and then stab that nigga
Everyone vicinity hear the boy ho noise
I'm the Zone 1 king, from a whole one thing
Threw a 100 on it, shawty, I was doing my thing
You tryna get a million, I done did that
Aye, keep it pimpin', keep a ticket where I live at
Aye, listen, sucka, I got nothin' for ya but a new coffin
I'll shoot you walkin' 'fore you get through talkin', nigga!
Catch me walkin' in ya hood, trench coat swingin'
Mask on, step up on ya front porch bangin'
Them Bankhead niggas, they a muhfucka, ain't they?
I'm the realest, richest nigga that you know today famous
Catch ya flaggin' in ya hood and ya wanna be a gangsta
In ya skinny jeans in arenas entertainin'
No matter how you paint it, better see the big picture
I'll get ya, nigga, wit' ya, then hit ya nigga!
[Chorus: Future]
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit
Talkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit
All you talk 'nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags (Shit!), nigga, you ain't bought shit (Shit!)
Talkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles (Shit!), nigga, you ain't popped shit (Shit!)
All you talk 'Nana clips (Shit!), nigga, you ain't shot shit (Shit!)
Spending money on these hoes (Shit!), nigga, you ain't fuck shit (Shit!)
[Verse 8: Diddy]
I ain't tryna hear a whole bunch of that (shit)
About how many bodies you caught (shit)
My niggas is real thug niggas, them real niggas don't talk
Worldstar niggas get caught, wavin' all them guns at the cameras
Grown ass nigga, you ain't bout to shoot (shit), you don't do (shit)
You just think it's cool (shit) to move bricks
Real niggas do it cause they got to
I know them real niggas and it's not you
And if they see yo' ass round here frontin'
Real shooter be somewhere and shot you
Man, get the fuck out the booth poppin' that (shit)
Corny ass nigga just talkin' that (shit)
Heard about it, read about it, never been around it
But you think ya soft ass give somebody that (shit)
How you movin' round with ya ho?
You ain't even stickin' to the code
You don't even represent the life right
Pussy nigga sleepin' with a night light
Comin' for ya head like Fight Night
I can get anything done for the right price, boy!
(Bad Boy) Take that
[Interlude: Future & Juicy J]
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit Let's get it! (Ma-fi-UH!)
[Verse 9: Juicy J]
If money talk then your pockets ain't saying shit
I'm in the bathroom getting head from yo' bitch
And I ain't paying her shit
You want beef? You don't know who you playing with (Hey!)
I tell my pilot to land the jet (Hey!)
I'm hopping off, get 'em, we popping off (Hey!)
Give a click and you niggas dead where you standing at (Hey!)
I'm just a trippy nigga smoking on cabbage
Your money funny like Jim Carrey
I got a bitch and she super bad like Halle
And we still keeping that white like Barry
I'm a rich nigga, still keep a pistol with me
Nigga, you ain't fuckin' with a picture of me
I got all this cake and shooters with me
Just in case you pussy niggas try to get you a piece
What it is, my nigga? What it's hittin' for? (Hey!)
Where the car you were whippin' in you video? (Hey!)
Where the ice at, nigga? Where them pretty hoes? (Hey!)
You a fraud, real niggas already know (Hey!)
Broke-ass niggas, I can't stand 'em (Hey!)
I hit 'em with the cannon
I'm buying off the mall at random (Hey!)
Juicy J, that nigga fresh to death (Hey!)
Smoke it 'til it's nothing left
Peel off, then I'm ghost in my Phantom
[Interlude: Future]
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit
[Verse 10: Tracy T]
My killas got shooters on shooters
My killas got shooters on shooters
My killas got shooters on shooters
Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang
Knock em down hundred rounds, lotta pounds, kilograms on the ave
How you want it? Quarter thang, half thang, whole slab?
Young Atlanta nigga pull a hammer on ya
Pull up on a nigga in a California
Teach a lame how to flip a couple numbers
Whole summer dope runners getting more commers
Money got me geekin', damn I need more
Alejandro bringin' in them truckloads
Copy that, get racks, nigga ten-four
Choppa bullets just rip a nigga head off
Clip long as a little nigga leg dawg
Empty that and the barrel just smoke
Closed casket, nigga head open
Peel the top back, yeah I’m in the foreign
Wide body and it sittin' on Forgies
Choppa kick like Chuck Norris
Ralph Lauren, my engine full of horses
Aim game insane nigga I’m a marksman
Cocaine white y’all niggas flip porcelain
Blow worth a fortune, million on the fortress
Niggas totin' AK’s like they Glock 40’s
[Chorus: Future]
Talkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit
Talkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit
All you talk 'nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit
( Future )
www.ChordsAZ.com