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letra de walk down (remix) - fnf chop

[intro]
hold up, kada, you recordin’ this?

[chorus: fnf chop]
clip so long, b-tch, it hang out the gl!ck’
big chop walk down, don’t hang out the whip
got money on my mind, don’t think ’bout a b-tch
drum-drum go dumb when i slide with the stick
you better blow wit’ your life when that day come
choppers on choppers, come take one
b-tch, i’m a lock to come shake sum’n
keem been a lock, b-tch that’s one of my day 1’s

[verse 1: sheff g]
huh (ayy), huh
clip so long that i go off with the sh-t
b-tch so thick, let her on the hip
boy, these chops so big that i walk with a limp (ayy, huh)
look, huh
snipin’ sh-t up, boy, they think that i’m pimpin’
3-3 in this clip but it’s no scottie pippen
we argue, we fight, suck me up when i’m finished, uh
ayy, look
i, i run it up, baggin’ up all the breesh (ayy)
look, glock on my hip, get him close on the drill
b-tch, i don’t need a beam (hol’ on, huh, look, huh)
run down on that boy and we leave him deceased (wait, huh)
don’t do no talkin’, we catch him, we [?] in the scene (wait)
run up if you want, n-ggas know how we get down
he wanna get up, got hit, watch him lay down
hitters pull up and walk down with that tre pound (huh, look, huh)
run up if you want, n-ggas know how we get down
he wanna get up, got hit, watch him lay down
hitters pull up and walk down with that tre pound
[verse 2: fnf chop]
i was down bad on my ass with like six straps
you was not there, don’t forget that
chopper break his ass in half like a kit kat
b-tch we got smoke like a kickback
stock on the kit has no kickback
shoot but you miss, what you hittin’ at?
talking that tough sh-t but what is you gettin’ at?
cuffin’ that thot, thot, ooh you kiss that b-tch on the lips

[chorus: fnf chop]
clip so long, b-tch, it hang out the gl!ck’
big chop walk down, don’t hang out the whip
got money on my mind, don’t think ’bout a b-tch
drum-drum go dumb when i slide with the stick
bad b-tches on go, watch her dive for the d-ck
deep strokes, send her home, she on live wit’ the sh-t
four nick with the beam, you can’t hide from this b-tch
all crane came attached, built inside of this b-tch

[verse 3: young nudy]
monster, east atlanta
look at my gun, came with a beam (yeah, f-ck you mean? yessir)
look at my gun, just k!lled a ting (ooh, latto, okay)
too many bullets come out the b-tch (brrr)
drop, drop a clip, pop another quick (yeah)
tryna hit a headshot quick (baow, baow, baow)
glock on me, b-tch, it won’t jam (yeah)
got one in the head, ready to blam (yeah)
hand on hand, i’ma hit you don’t point
broke n-gga, why you carryin’ a hotpoint? (d-mn)
get you a twenty-six, i remember i was twenty-six
always stay with a strap on my hip (yeah)
act crazy, chop screw some sh-t (screw some sh-t)
my dj carry him a gl!ck’ (yeah)
security, he got him a stick (him a stick)
that one of my homie, shotta, he legit
why you try to tell me? goin’ in your sh-t (baow, yeah)
he like the ice on my wrist (on my wrist)
she like the ice on my wrist (your b-tch)
he wanna rob for it (you robbin’?)
she wanna [?] on my d-ck (oh yeah)
a-after i catch this body i’m back in this p-ssy, finna k!ll this b-tch
back to back fully auto in your b-tch (brrr)
i ain’t with the [?] (yeah)
i be huggin’ all these cuddle with sticks
lotta money, it’s a brinks (it’s a brinks)
sh-t’ll turn you to l!ck (to a l!cky)
they ain’t never seen this sh-t (never)
[bridge: fnf chop]
40’s and carbons
glizzy make a f-ck n-gga dance like carlton
i don’t wanna smoke your weed, sh-t garbage
and i don’t really trust no b-tch to be honest
i got 40’s and carbons
glizzy make a f-ck n-gga dance like carlton
i don’t wanna smoke your weed, sh-t garbage
and i don’t really trust no b-tch to be honest

[outro: fnf chop]
clip so long, b-tch, it hang out the gl!ck’
big chop walk down, don’t hang out the whip
got money on my mind, don’t think ’bout a b-tch
drum-drum go dumb when i slide with the stick

- fnf chop

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