| Pipe that shit up, TnT
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| Brr
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| Oh-oh, oh-oh
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| Niggas better not
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| NIggas better not pop out for real
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| Brr, ayy, ayy
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| Ayy, my brodie got a lick
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| He say he tryna bring 'bout forty back
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| Forty packs and forty racks
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| .40 Cal and a MAC
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| Box him up, Apple Jacks
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| Rat-a-tat, tat-a-tat
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| In the scat, caught him lackin'
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| Windows crackin', tires flat
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| I say «We ain’t come here for nothin' nigga, we want it all»
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| Jewelry on, you know that I’m stuntin' nigga, we love to ball
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| Never duckin' opps, if I’m inside, I’m duckin' federals
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| Stopped takin' Percocets 'cause I don’t wanna slip on Fentanyl
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| Ayy, pop him, drop him, I got 'bout twenty on god (Oh, ayy)
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| Ayy, spot him, watch him, look one more time, I’ll spare
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| Ain’t no trustin' us we bustin' stuff like we play for the Warriors
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| What you is nigga? |
| What you bangin'? |
| You say you did, then throw it up
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| Suck the gang she throwin' up, now she sayin' she don’t know us (Ayy)
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| New hoes comin' through, we goin' up nigga, fuck her (Yeah)
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| Drugged up, my face mugged up, he say I’m tough tough
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| Move them killers, we don’t say shit, we let them guns bust
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| Even though I had talent (Ayy), I was still out committing robberies
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| My past keep on following me, you know I acknowledge greed
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| Good deed, bad deed, we gon' do that shit if we in need
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| Bad bitch with both legs for me, I think she Cherokee
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| I be comin', with Taliban drugs
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| Paraphernalia and the contrabands
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| They say they can smell us, still let me board then I land
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| Better treat me like Osama in this bitch
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| But we ain’t stabbin' bullets get to clappin' (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
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| Saw this nigga play, he gon' lay, ayy, ayy, ayy
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| This a hooligan she raisin' ayy, babe, babe, babe
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| Wraith, that’s my taste, I ain’t tryna drive no straight
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| Left a nut on her face, goodness sake, it look like a cake
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| Fast sip, slow smokin' dope, lean out the bottle
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| Fuckin' on a model, I DM’d her I ain’t have to follow
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| Never trust a ho, I put my faith into these fuckin' hollows
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| Come here, barrel to the face blow his brains out him
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| He out of bounds, I had to foul him
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| Ref throw in the towel
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| The crowd goin' wild
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| Big man on the block Pau Gasol
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| And round to round, pound for pound, you can’t last clown
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| You must’ve heard about that last nigga we bummed down
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| Ayy, my brodie got a lick
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| He say he tryna bring 'bout forty back
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| Forty packs and forty racks
|
| .40 cal and a MAC
|
| Box him up, Apple Jacks
|
| Rat-a-tat, tat-a-tat
|
| In the scat, caught him lackin'
|
| Windows crackin', tires flat
|
| I say we ain’t come here for nothin' nigga, we want it all
|
| Jewelry on, you know that I’m stuntin' nigga, we love to ball
|
| Never duckin' opps, if I’m inside, I’m duckin' federals
|
| Stopped takin' Percocets 'cause I don’t wanna slip on Fentanyl
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| See, I be comin', with Taliban drugs
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| Paraphernalia and the contrabands
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| They say they can smell us, still let me board then I land
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| Better treat me like Osama in this bitch
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| But we ain’t stabbin' bullets get to clappin' (Brr)
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| Nigga, we ain’t stabbin' bullets in the classroom
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| We ain’t totin' machetes
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| We’ll send you to Heaven with a stabbin'
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| A stabbin', stabbin', stabbin' right in front of Reverand, brr
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| NLE, the Top Shotta
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| Ball out, ball out, ball out |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Taliban , by - NLE Choppa. Song from the album From Dark to Light, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп