Future Karate Chop (Ft. Casino)
[Intro]
You know, it's just some real nigga shit, a real nigga story
You know what I'm saying?
(Hook)
(aye)
Slang a bunch of narcotics (then what)
Pull up in that new rarri (yea)
Living like John Gotti (the mob)
Chopping bricks like karate (chwaaa)
Drink a bunch of codeine (drank)
Serving to the dope fiends (they smokers)
Blowing money, stay clean (free bands)
Michael Jackson, Billy Jean
[Verse 1: Future]
Got a panamera on a young nigga neck (porche)
Got a young bitch pulling up in a vet (she working)
Smoke a lot of kush and I have a lot of sex
Had to beat the grind up, ran up my check
bitch a nigga get money, nigga get that
Hold up, brother run it, nigga sell up all the crack
Who can hear that nigga lying, all the words that don't
I get group up my lil with the duffer, don't wanna look
50 thousand on your watch, dark nigga splurge
Hold up ace of spade, bout to sip a coup of syrup
Keep a young nigga working at a buzz a k
I'ma take a phone call, bust a every pay
(Hook)
(aye)
Slang a bunch of narcotics (then what)
Pull up in that new rarri (yea)
Living like John Gotti (the mob)
Chopping bricks like karate (chwaaa)
Drink a bunch of codeine (drank)
Serving to the dope fiends (they smokers)
Blowing money, stay clean (free bands)
Michael Jackson, Billy Jean
Whip it, never cake, just an orange spider
Young nigga play with keys, nigga type writer
At the pole Jordan got it our nose snitching, I can put it on a bottle
In a 4 door beamer, driving with a rifle
Nigga where you at, nigga we gonn put up on you
Young bitch living like janet in the 80's
We was grinding up from a toup and a baby
Got the girl dripping bit like a Jerry Curl
Got the stuff on cup and it's full of syrup
Sending all the fronting message, call me, let me work
(Hook)
(aye)
Slang a bunch of narcotics (then what)
Pull up in that new rarri (yea)
Living like John Gotti (the mob)
Chopping bricks like karate (chwaaa)
Drink a bunch of codeine (drank)
Serving to the dope fiends (they smokers)
Blowing money, stay clean (free bands)
Michael Jackson, Billy Jean
Minding like I'm fronting, not you, go back
Killers rob me like I'm gotti
If I trip you know I'm sorry
I be fresh don't need no stylist
I be geeking on them mollies
Sery makes noclean
My hair like a triple bean
I got workers like machines
All I do is sit and dream
Have my niggas serve fiends
I get dumber than orlean
(Hook)
(aye)
Slang a bunch of narcotics (then what)
Pull up in that new rarri (yea)
Living like John Gotti (the mob)
Chopping bricks like karate (chwaaa)
Drink a bunch of codeine (drank)
Serving to the dope fiends (they smokers)
Blowing money, stay clean (free bands)
Michael Jackson, Billy Jean.
