[Intro: Shakewell]
MTM, hit 'em with the heat
[Chorus: Fat Nick]
Big choppa (Big choppa), whole pound, this a gas pack
Full clip (Trap, trap), ten shots, push your cap back
Fast whip (Fast), see the kitty? Not a Scat Pack
Who this? (Who?) That's an opp, don't let him in
Big choppa (Big choppa), whole pound, this a gas pack
Full clip (Trap, trap), ten shots, push your cap back
Fast whip (Fast), see the kitty? Not a Scat Pack
Who this? (Who?) That's an opp, don't let him in
[Verse 1: Fat Nick]
My choppa feelin' gay, he wanna feel you out
My AR got some asthma, 'bout to air your house
I just sold five packs for ten, but I re-rocked this loud
I got big dog status, let the hounds out
Heard you hang with opps, I keep the yappa close
I done run through all your bitches, not like dominoes
My 'migo plug illegal, ayo, vámonos
There's a snake in the room, I'm like, "Where'd he go?"
Thirty in the pistol, that's a quick mag
Read a bitch out, no polygraph
My shooter shootin' movies, no photograph
And we never goin' broke, we runnin' bags
Hit his block and spin it, now he outside
Opps keep lookin' for me, leave 'em cockeyed
Bitch, I'm in the cut like peroxide
I got a hundred bands on me, baby, all times
MTM, hit 'em with the heat
[Chorus: Fat Nick]
Big choppa (Big choppa), whole pound, this a gas pack
Full clip (Trap, trap), ten shots, push your cap back
Fast whip (Fast), see the kitty? Not a Scat Pack
Who this? (Who?) That's an opp, don't let him in
Big choppa (Big choppa), whole pound, this a gas pack
Full clip (Trap, trap), ten shots, push your cap back
Fast whip (Fast), see the kitty? Not a Scat Pack
Who this? (Who?) That's an opp, don't let him in
[Verse 1: Fat Nick]
My choppa feelin' gay, he wanna feel you out
My AR got some asthma, 'bout to air your house
I just sold five packs for ten, but I re-rocked this loud
I got big dog status, let the hounds out
Heard you hang with opps, I keep the yappa close
I done run through all your bitches, not like dominoes
My 'migo plug illegal, ayo, vámonos
There's a snake in the room, I'm like, "Where'd he go?"
Thirty in the pistol, that's a quick mag
Read a bitch out, no polygraph
My shooter shootin' movies, no photograph
And we never goin' broke, we runnin' bags
Hit his block and spin it, now he outside
Opps keep lookin' for me, leave 'em cockeyed
Bitch, I'm in the cut like peroxide
I got a hundred bands on me, baby, all times
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