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letra de chop - berner

[hook: the jacka]
we in the future, all my n-gg-s young
talkin’ ’bout my chop like it’s the only one
over the paper look what we’ve become
when we gettin’ rich while we still young
we in the future all my n-gg-s young
talkin’ ’bout my chop like it’s the only one
over the paper look what we’ve become
we gettin’ rich out here while we still young

[verse 1: the jacka]
i’m in the future all my n-gg-s young
talkin’ ’bout my chop like it’s the only one
i’m on, produce a stone like my deuces on
sippin’ juice at a spot where if you snooze you gone
sellin’ c-ke, same spot where i shoot my arm
we gettin’ dough but where we go we can’t use a dime
but if you want we sendin’ soldiers although you were kind
drug dealin’, no feelings when we out our mind
we not lookin’ at lebron if there’s powder flyin’
the complications on the day-date’ll have you traumatized
but a yacht-master had a plasma leakin’ out your eye
grand complications is a grown man’s conversation
four hundred grand, leather, been on diamonds in the faces
i came up early pushin’ tan when all they want was sp-ceships
my cousin will, cousin ray they wasn’t only gangsters
paper over patience when only tough guys ink they faces

[verse 2: berner]
i’m still young, got plenty of cash
ash trays full of gas, broad day, no need for a mask
i felt sick losin’ money in the mail like that
but i bought 20 more and then i bounced right back
we take trips just to flex, 2 weeks in qatar
gold glocks, big yachts, and beautiful cars
i got b-tches on the east coast, catch me in scores
i’m in a mink coat tellin’ baby give me some more
louie v gold frames, i’mma let the c-ke drain
then call her by her hoe name
ten karat we can set it down in the tank
cream soda with the drank, eyes red as the paint
when i’m gone will they live for me?
will i see 40 or will i die young? pray for me
take some c-ke and rub it on my gums
i love my chop like it’s the only one

[verse 3: ampichino]
all of this paper what have we become
you dealin’ with a n-gg- that rarely see the sun
young, dumb, full of c-m plus i’m on the run
i love the sound of my gun like it’s my only one
no love in my heart, the city where i’m from
will tear you apart if you ain’t really from the slums
i murder emcees to the sound of the drum
i bleed the block my nina pop cause where i’m from
it’s k!ll or be k!lled you down for the hunt
put your murder gloves on and wrap ’em round the pump
you ready to eat, you tired of these crumbs
you so used to losin’ you don’t know when you won
i slide around with a honey-bun
only time i don’t feel pain is when the money come
my girl asked me, what i’m runnin’ from
i said i’m runnin’ from the world (?)

- berner

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