Metro Boomin - Karate Chop lyrics

[Intro] You know, This just some real n***a sh**, a real n***a story You know what I'm saying? [Hook: Future] Slang a bunch of narcotics Pull up in the new 'rrari Livin' like John Gotti Choppin' bricks like karate Drink a bunch of codeine Serve it to the dope fiends Blowin' money, stay clean Michael Jackson, Billie Jean [Verse 1: Future] Got a Panamera round a young n***a neck Got a young b**h pulling up in a 'Vette Smoke a lot of kush & I have a lot of s** Had to beat the grind up, ran up my check Picture n***a getting money, n***a get back (back) Roll a blunt of chronic, n***a sell a lot of crack (crack) You can hit a n***a line, order what you want I can whoop a Maserati, pulling up a donk (donk) 50,000 on yo watch, young n***a splurge (splurge) Pop a ace of spade bottle, sip a lot of syrup (syrup) Keep a young n***a workin' that'll bust a k (k) I'mma take a phone call, hustle everyday (everyday) [Hook] 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) (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 2: Future] Whipping up a cake, just to go and snatch a spider (spider) Young n***a play with ki's, (ki's) like a type writer Al Capone, John Gotti was a n***a idol I was never snitching, I can put it on the Bible In a 4 door beamer, driving with a rifle n***a where you at, (at) n***a we go pull up on ya Young b**h looking like Janet in the 80's (80's) We was grinding up from two and a baby (oh) Got the girl dripping wet like a jerry curl (curl) Got a styrofoam cup and its full of syrup Send it over from New Mexico & Let me Work (lets work) I can get 36 for a clean shirt (shirt) [Hook] 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) (chwaaa) Drink a bunch of codeine (drank) Serving to the dope fiends (they smokers) (yeah) Blowing money, stay clean (free bands) Michael Jackson, Billy Jean (jean) (jean) Who bad [Verse 3: Lil Wayne] Pop a lot of pain pills (pills) Bout to put rims on my skateboard wheels (wheels) Yeah... Beat that p**y up like Emmett Till Yeah... Two cell phones ringin' at the same time (same time) That's your ho, (ho ho) callin' from two different phones (different phones) Tell that b**h "leave me the f** alone!" (f** alone!) See, you f** her wrong, (f** her wrong) and I f** her long (f** her long) I got a love-hate relationship with Molly (Molly) I'd rather pop an ollie, (ollie) and my dick is a trolly Boy, I'll bury you like Halle (Halle) And these hoes say I'm blind Cause I don't see nothin' wrong with a little bump and grind (bump and grind) Man I just received a package (package) Them other n***as taxin' (taxin') And my pockets so fat, (fat) I'm startin' to feel contractions And my cousin went to jail for them chickens And he already home and that n***a must be snitchin' Cut him off like karate! (like karate!) [Verse 3: Casino] Pull up, serve you in my Rari' Money like Im Frank Matthews k**ers around me like I'm Gotti If I tricked you, know Im sorry I be fresh dont need no stylist I be geeking on them mollies Sell remix dont sell no cleans My hand like a triple beam I got workers like machine All I do is sell dreams Half my n***as serve fiends I get up and then I lean [Hook] 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 Who bad, who bad, who bad