Taleban Dooda - Chopstix II lyrics

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Taleban Dooda - Chopstix II lyrics

[Chorus: Taleban Dooda] This a four-nick G-lock, top notch sh*t This a Russian chopstick (Yeah) 7.62s beatbox sh*t, uh This a Glock 19 with a thirty dick (Thirty) These bullets explode when it hit (Boom) Mac in my 'Wood, I'm just rollin' the kid I don't like bein' sober and sh*t (Nah) Nah, nah, we just made his block hot 40 make him hopscotch b*tch, I hang with dropouts (Yeah) All he heard was "Fah-fah" We done brought the cops out Like why them ni**as b*tches? Like why they don't ever pop out? [Verse 1: Taleban Dooda] He better watch how he move 7.62s knock him out of his shoes (Uh) They know we breakin' the rules We the ones puttin' thе bass in the boom Same tool, b*tch, same guns off DOOM Glock 45, this b*tch shakin' thе room If he talk tough, then he makin' the news We some handy-ass ni**as, we keep us a tool (Gotta have it) One, two, he dissin' my brother, I'm comin' to you If they drop the addy, we followin' through Tryna turn his little brother to a vegetable too Lay down, them b*tches better not move b*tch, I ain't playin', I am not in the mood I ain't got sense, I had dropped out of school If anybody move, this on bro, I'ma shoot [Chorus: Taleban Dooda] This a four-nick G-lock, top notch sh*t This a Russian chopstick (Yeah) 7.62s beatbox sh*t, uh This a Glock 19 with a thirty dick (Thirty) These bullets explode when it hit (Boom) Mac in my 'Wood, I'm just rollin' the kid I don't like bein' sober and sh*t (Nah) Nah, nah, we just made his block hot 40 make him hopscotch b*tch, I hang with dropouts (Yeah) All he heard was "Fah-fah" We done brought the cops out Like why them ni**as b*tches? Like why they don't ever pop out? [Verse 2: Tory Lanez] We talkin' energy I got them hoes that be gone off the Hennessy I got them b*tches that's goin' off to Tennessee When I come out that b*tch spittin', that yoppa, that choppa go grrt, you'd think that it's ten of me I got the flow and I'm rollin' my b*tch and she goin' she know it I got it for 4 I got your b*tch and I'm goin', I'm motor boating on the titties, she rowin' for sure This ain't Monopoly, I pass the go and I'm buying the property Ain't a fu*k ni**a as hot as me I got them b*tches on go when they gotta be I got them digits, you know that I'm speaking that money, don't talk that broke-nology We got the Mobb and we Deep, it's like Prodigy You know we got a guy had the .380 with me like it ought to be [Chorus: Taleban Dooda] This a four-nick G-lock, top notch sh*t This a Russian chopstick (Yeah) 7.62s beatbox sh*t, uh This a Glock 19 with a thirty dick (Thirty) These bullets explode when it hit (Boom) Mac in my 'Wood, I'm just rollin' the kid I don't like bein' sober and sh*t (Nah) Nah, nah, we just made his block hot 40 make him hopscotch b*tch, I hang with dropouts (Yeah) All he heard was "Fah-fah" We done brought the cops out Like why them ni**as b*tches? Like why they don't ever pop out?