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NLE Choppa – Chicago to Memphis Lyrics


Raise the murder rate

Anytime a n**** play, we raise the murder rate

Broad day, let thirty shots off and we skrrt away

Park the car, don’t drop off, I be front line when it pop off

When it’s crunch time, make it hot sauce

Homicide gon’ tape his block off

Let the Glock off, knock ya top off, aye

Watch ’em fly away

Tryna stay up out them streets, I had to fly away

Momma pray I’m too deep in the streets to stop, I can’t

Really rich, I woke up, thought to buy that watch, I ain’t

I bank at five banks

In my hood, I’m hall of fame

I’m on that nine rank

Changed the game up, showed my n***** how to play, I got away

Still ain’t put that fye away, you wanna die, just try today

My mind right, I’m flying straight

I probably walk away

Plus I know you n***** hoes, just act tough and talk away

Eighteen, got sacked up and strapped up just off a play

And I ain’t hiding, I’m in LA, I’m in that Lamb’, I’m at valet

Aye, switch out the tags and the VIN ’cause I wanna spin again

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Couple shots in the FN and the rest of ’em in his friend

Ain’t enough money in this world that will make me cross a friend

Ain’t enough loyalty in this world for you to comprehend

Freaky bitch, I beat her back until it bend and it break

Gave me head up in the ‘Cat, I put the police on the chase

Came in her mouth, got away and still ain’t ever hit the brakes

Asked her was she fine, she said her hair fucked up but she okay

I’m as cutthroat as it get and I’m ’bout grimy as a ho

Glizzy gotta match my fit or I ain’t steppin’ out the door

Thirty shots, it wasn’t enough so I got fifty at the most

Scratch the serial up out this bitch, now both of y’all a ghost

Get my jewelry from flawless diamonds but my bitch go to Wafi

Might get a Urus on perfect timing just to say I bought it

N***** weird, they slick dissin’ on me and damn right, I caught it

A couple weeks later, we had his mama pickin’ coffins

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This that shit that have you goin’ a hundred on the e-way

Stop the car, let me out, I left him layin’ on the freeway

Got n***** shooting behind and after me like it’s a relay

Blow his candles at his candle light, call it a murder bday

Fuck the score board, n****, you can check the stat sheet

Run shit down like Sha’Carri in a track meet

Put ’em in the backseat, then kill ’em on the backstreet

Two shooters a tag team, his noodles on concrete

N****, business is what he standing on

Bullets hit his back, tell ’em show it off like it’s Vlone

Few things I don’t play about money, and respect, and my jawns

You see me, might play around but I got bodies on my dome

Shot a n**** at fifteen, I never looked back since

Slam a dunk a opp, my arm in the rim like I’m Vince

Purple bandana, purple outfit, Purple Rain like I’m Prince

I’m a money-making n**** but I can’t go out like Mitch

I bet them bullets change the subject

Why you stop sucking my dick, bitch? You seen I ain’t nut yet

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N***** can talk all they want, I still ain’t been touched yet

Brodie tell me chill, he know I kill, but n****, fuck that

‘Cause if ion get ’em, they got me

If ion fill ’em they bodied, put 33 in them Scottie, no Pippen

Them bullets hit ’em, inject him ,we fill ’em like penicillin

We put n***** past the ceiling and the sky, giving God a visit

Murder, murder, kill it, kill it

Dirty thirty filled what’s it in

For certain, I’m merking the person thinking that I ain’t with it

Close the curtain, hospital visits, we flat

Lining them bitches, double back

Nine of them n***** hit up his spine, now he Crippin’

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