Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Picture Me Grapin’, artist - NLE Choppa. Album song From Dark to Light, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.10.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: NLE Choppa Entertainment
Song language: English
Picture Me Grapin’ |
Yeah, turn me up a lil bit more |
Just a lil bit more |
What is that picture of me grapin'? |
Ayy, we movin', ayy |
Ayy, ayy |
Oh, they gon' fuck on with this right now |
NLE, the Top Shotta |
Yeah, yeah |
Yeah, yeah |
I got the bomb like Al-Qaeda |
NLE, the Top Shotta, ayy |
Picture me rollin' (Yeah) |
Fat Cackwood smokin', couple bitches in motion |
We ain’t causin' commotions but I be braggin' and boastin' |
I put the most in, I get the most out (I get it out), no doubt |
I brought the Glock in and took my show out (Brr, brr, brr, brr), I sold out |
We break them poles out for your show out (Ayy), then roll out |
I got him hit and then I rapped about it, think he know now |
Put a duffle bag up on his head, my nigga cash out (Cash out) |
I get the cheese in large amounts |
They callin' me the cash cow (They callin' me the cash cow) |
We get the peace, we get the pints and then we tax 'em, Uncle Sam |
Give 'em teddy bears and T-shirts, my dawg will put 'em down |
Told that nigga get from 'round me, I don’t trust 'em (I don’t trust 'em) |
So it’s fuck 'em, brand new chopper suppressed the muzzle whips when I bust 'em |
Slide on 'em, hit the brother |
Then we double back with different cutters (Brr, brr, brr, brr) |
They know it’s real, they know it’s drama (Ayy), so they call 'em off |
Ayy, I live the life of a top shotta until the day I die (Day I die) |
Yeah, you know I’m a thug nigga, but I’ma still cry (Still cry) |
We ain’t doin' no drive-bys, I look him in his eyes (I look him in his eyes) |
Standin' over with this fire |
And I’ma watch that nigga die (I'ma watch that nigga die) |
Niggas know how we comin', comin' |
We slammin' like we drummin' (Slammin' like we drummin') |
Niggas pull up, we dumper dumpin', we shootin' it ain’t nothin' |
We leavin' them niggas slumpin', slumpin', see my gun and runnin' out |
A hunnid rounds keep 'em comin', comin', murder on my conscience |
I got this pistol in my pants and I’m posted where I wanna be (Yeah, yeah) |
I made my own label, I can’t see no nigga sonnin' me |
I got too much to lose, I’m takin' you, you think you takin' me? |
(Watch) |
I never been a fool, I watch your moves |
You think you snakin' me? |
(I'm watchin') |
Real killer, all my niggas feel safe with me |
Even though they really supposed to be securin' me |
I told Big Sean that I don’t really need security, but that’s my nigga |
But ain’t any nigga put fear in me |
I sincerely wrote a note but they ain’t hearin' me (They ain’t hearin' me, cuh) |
I give a junk a line of coke to go on killing sprees |
(They ain’t hearin' me, cuh) |
I told the bitch to get the drop while she was on her knees (Brr, brr) |
She asked me what’s in it for her, I said, «I got a treat,"I skeeted |
Yeah I left it on her face and I told her |
«That's the only thing you gettin' from me, bih» |
I live the life of a boss player until the day I die (Until the day I die) |
Couple bitches they feelin' on me |
They sayin' that I’m fly (They sayin' that I’m fly) |
Feel like 2Pac, I got two bitches, they fuckin' in the spot |
Her ass fat, I’m grabbin', grippin', I’ma squeeze it 'til it pop |
You know I get around, I get your pants down and then I rob (Then I rob) |
Hood nigga, I’ma pull my pants down, keep on my socks |
Jamaican nigga, she be feelin' on my hair, she like my locs (She like my locs) |
I put her head on my cock, I told her, «Suck it, don’t stop» |
Ay you can call me tummy, I got the drank up in my belly |
And we slid on 'em, got to poppin', know you got the message |
We ain’t 'bout the talkin', bitch, we 'bout the sparkin' |
(About to kill a nigga, yeah, we gonna merk him) |
Pull up on 'em then we caution taped him, white-chalk him |
I got a child but my BM really be on bullshit (She on bullshit, that’s facts) |
I’m askin' God why, I got these problems on these pool pits |
Heard another diss today, I put 'em on my shooter list (They on my shooter list) |
Shoot it up, I’m all black, I’m ready to go do it man |
Shoot a man, gun in hand |
Have 'em runnin' like the running man |
Where you runnin' when I’m sprayin'? |
A couple bands wrapped in rubber bands |
Put it all up on your head |
Bands make 'em dance when them choppas start playin' |
You sayin' what you sayin' but I’m sayin' what I’m sayin' |
And my nigga of the Xans he’ll blam on your man (Brr) |
Ayy, I live the life of a top shotta until the day I die (Day I die) |
Yeah, you know I’m a thug nigga, but I’ma still cry (Still cry) |
We ain’t doin' no drive-bys, I look him in his eyes (I look him in his eyes) |
Standin' over with this fire, and I’ma watch that nigga die (I'ma watch that |
nigga die) |
Niggas know how we comin', comin' |
We slammin' like we drummin' (Slammin' like we drummin') |
Niggas pull up, we dumper dumpin', we shootin' it ain’t nothin' |
We leavin' them niggas slumpin', slumpin', see my gun and runnin' out |
A hunnid rounds keep 'em comin', comin', murder on my conscience |
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy |
Hahaha |
Brr, brr, brr |
Picture me rollin' |
We bend the curve when we creepin', when we step |
Picture me grapin' |
Play them choppas, move 'em right to left |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
Picture me rollin' |
NLE, the Top Shotta, got the bombs like Al-Qaeda |
Picture me grapin', brr |