Testo AUNTIE LIVING ROOM - NLE Choppa
Testo della canzone AUNTIE LIVING ROOM (NLE Choppa), tratta dall'album Cottonwood 2
(Mack House Entertainment)
Mm, yeah, yeah, yeah, ayy, look we ain't no T
Ayo, this go hard (we love you, Perc), for real now (turn up)
Uh, yeah, yeah, back to the basics, yeah, mmm
I changed my ways, mm, yeah, yeah, back to the basics, yeah, come on
I changed my ways, yeah, yeah, get back to the basics, yeah, mm
They changed on us, ayy, ayy (brrt)
A whole lotta swishers and Dracs (on God), pull on this street, you ain't makin' it out
Nigga, you know how we play? (Know how we play), makin' that bed, he gon' lay in that bed
No resurrectin' from the dead, uh (nah), fresh as hell if the feds lookin'
Fresh as hell if the feds watchin', 20 on his head, good profit
What that is? That's another body, uh, pray to the Lord that we get that lil' boy
I repented, and penned (c'mon), and he penned some more (ah-hah)
Sent a lotta costs, and took a lotta losses, but that shit made me a boss, so, yeah
Heard what he said? We leavin' him red (brrt)
Mechanical Choppa, a whole lotta lead (brrt-brrt)
Ride for my dawg like a ped, yeah
Children are cryin', people are dyin'
Children are cryin', people are dyin'
They died in the streets, they got no place to sleep
Children are cryin', people are dyin'
Ayy, ayy (let's do it, brrt)
Rock out with this stick, no, I'm keepin' my metal (keepin' my metal)
7.62, outta the devil (outta devil)
Gun in this car got a hunnid or better (hunnid or better)
Choosin' the Glock and neglectin' Barettas (Barettas)
How you gon' step to a stepper?
We robbin' the robbers and killin' the killers, etcetera (bang)
Put my shooter on the pedestal (c'mon)
Hollow tip, eat 'em like an edible, edible (c'mon, c'mon), oh
Same gun that I kill bro with (brrt), step on niggas like dog shit (brrt)
I don't need me a condom, got a raw bitch (raw bitch)
Fuck the police, we ain't saw shit (we ain't saw shit)
Uh, I was just laid back chillin'
They made me a villain, I put yo' niggas in position (mm)
Said I couldn't come back to the hood, in my auntie's livin' room chillin', makin' millions
Rolls Truck, half a ticket, parked outside in the trenches, nigga, no fixin' (no fixin')
Post it up, shirt off with a glizzy (brrt-brrt-brrt), this the life that we dream, just cheerin'
He said, what? (Ah), dead crickets (yeah), pasted in lead, nigga, we can't kick it (nah)
Blood on my hands, finger lickin', KFC chicken, we whippin' birds in the kitchen
Children are cryin' (they cry for real), people are dyin' (niggas die for real)
Children are cryin' (they mama too), people are dyin' (dead for real)
They die in the streets (they die in the skreets)
They got no place to sleep (got no place to sleep)
Children are cryin' (they cry for real), people are dyin' (I said they dyin' for real)
No button on hip, this a built-in switch (brrt-brrt)
At a nigga door like ding-dong, ditch (come here)
Twin Glocks on me, Lilo and Stitch (for real)
He ain't my homie, I'd Melly that bitch (hah)
That's like how life go, you live, and you die (die)
Smile or cry, win, lose, or a tie (tie)
I'm the same guy, all-white, hit it right on the nose, nigga play a fly
Mm, ayy, look man, just free Teevo, too, we back on y'all nigga ass, man
Just gave him a honeybun like a fat kid
You know what it is? Ha-ha, hah, yeah
Come on, baby (children are cryin', people are dyin')
(Children are cryin', people are dyin')
(They died in the streets, they got no place to sleep)
(Children are cryin', people are dyin')
Credits
Writer(s): Unknown Composer Author, Terion Porter
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