need that kit - greenlightt & whoppa wit da choppa lyrics
[intro: whoppa wit da choppa, greenlightt]
this sh*t too easy
who don’t— who don’t make drill music?
everybody makes drill music fire
rrah, rrah
[chorus: greenlightt]
we need that chain, we need that watch, we need your motherf*ckin’ kick
i can’t go out like that rapper, dude, that’s a f*cking snitch
he died on t, now he with god, he said that motherf*cking bl!ck
when you got money you got power, 10 bands, will get him hit
he was trolling all on live, now i cannot get him back
when they ask me “who i smoke?” i’ma tell him fooli packed
they say ’em ’bout them murders, and i cannot get them back
we got bodies running city, just go ask some b*tch ass fat
i would have called a 2 for 1, but my b*tch keep turned up on mе
[verse 1: greenlightt]
called a goofy n*gga loafing, he was all on instagram
couple shots and hе had failed, i’m like d*mn, who give a d*mn?
hit his ass a couple times, now that sh*t a bl**dy murder
police asked me ’bout some sh*t, but i don’t know about this murder
they told me get back in my bag, like, all this n*gga do is drill
reddit confused about them bodies, they confused on who i k!ll?
just got that call from guddaman, broski said that he won’t squeal
[?] i love him that’s my brother, he gon’ eat a n*gga face
thought he survived but he had died, left that n*gga doa
[verse 2: whoppa wit da choppa]
yeah, i f*ck that talk, i get that chop, we swinging all day
hit the block, bro, swap the glock, a n*gga passed away
this ain’t fast and fear this sh*t gets serious, take you on a chase
i’m tired of telling these stupid ass n*ggas stay out the e*way
baby sp*ceship like a city, don’t want no lean b*tch, i’m off of a beat
two glocks with the white, when i hit the scene
when i’m on the block, i smoke trey d (yeah)
f*ck that drill music, but we make k!ll music
i’m on a 1 8 7 sh*t, b*tch, i still do it
[chorus: greenlightt]
we need that chain, we need that watch, we need your motherf*ckin’ kick
i can’t go out like that rapper, dude, that’s a f*cking snitch
he died on t, now he with god, he said that motherf*cking bl!ck
when you got money you got power, 10 bands, will get him hit
he was trolling all on live, now i cannot get him back
when they ask me “who i smoke?” i’ma tell him fooli packed
they say ’em ’bout them murders, and i cannot get them back
we got bodies running city, just go ask some b*tch ass fat
i would have called—
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