Memphis, Pt. 2 (feat. NLE Choppa & A$AP Ferg) - AG Club

Arf, arf, arf Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg) Where my dawgs at? (Right here, dawg) Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg) Now where my dawgs at? (Frankie Mothafuckin' P) I said get at me I'm talkin' to you niggas with that rap beef Get at me Ostrich-skin seats like it's acne Get at me Never tacky, jeans made by Acne Fuck Governor Pataki and Patakis It's about to get uglier than Balenciagas Felt bad I never finished college Now we fuckin' cuties with booties in Dapper Dan silk pajamas Livin' the dream, open up your eyelids Me and Flacko on a island with a few bad bitches How my cousin make a mil' off a du-rag business? All my dawgs with the shit, you with a few cat litters All the yellow with the black like the Wu back (Su) Back when I was rentin' beds, I was still catchin' head If I was bussin' dishes, I'd be still fuckin' bitches Boof pack, gift wrapped just like Christmas Gone for a minute, now I'm back, did you miss me? Had the whole Harlem World wearin' Under Armours Under the armors, I'm a pretty mothafuckin' comma Gorgeous comma, pretty much about to fuck your mama Kinda runnin' late for this meetin' with Obama I ain't mean it to rhyme, but call me when your mind right Meet me with your romper, CC me when the vibe right More money, more problem, more chopper, more drama And I got these hoes, feelin' like Mo Bamba Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg) Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg) Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg) Now where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg) Who gon' do what? My dawgs gon' tool up Nigga, look out, 'cause look down like one, two, fucked And we don't give two fucks Where I'm from, you lunch, you food Niggas called your bluff Pockets Warren Buffett, security guard too buff I like my songs screwed up I own a gold toothbrush, I get my gold tooth buffed I'ma stomp a nigga out in Timberland nubuck Young Buck, too buck, Benz truck, new truck Big horns, tuba, more good than Cuba They tried to hit us like Huey with the armpits up But we swerved through the bullets, get your targets up Hood Pope up in this bitch, in Trap Lord we trust Now where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg) Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg) Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg) Now where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg) I said get at me I'm talkin' to you niggas with that rap beef Get at me Ostrich-skin seats like it's acne Get at me Never tacky, jeans made by Acne Fuck Governor Pataki and Patakis

I know it's wrong I know it's wrong Father please forgive us, couldn't tell the difference and it's on me I don't need to seek attention just to keep these women on me I know it's wrong I know it's wrong I know it's wrong I know it's wrong Fuckin' on that bitch and I know it's wrong Wifey walked in and she found that thong She talk to my dick like an intercom Then smoke that dick up just like it's a bong I ain't gon' lie, this the realest song Head ebola, get my glisten on Trap love gettin' it and on But I know it's wrong I know that it's wrong so don't buy brick I speak to the Lord, don't ignore me White model bitch doin' cocaine Layin' her out in the hallway Double strappin' on a ratchet bitch So she don't take me to Maury Man I done lost me a classy bitch Perccy, you stand in the hallway Father please forgive us, couldn't tell the difference and it's on me I don't need to seek attention just to keep these women on me I know it's wrong I know it's wrong I know it's wrong I know it's wrong Feel like I'm stuck in a maze My bitches lookin' amazed Now she is goin' so crazy She caught me cheatin' today Eyelashes all on my bed Texts I didn't erase Now she comin' at my head Thought I'd never see the day Shouldn't have never been with them other broads And now I left my girl with another scar Sometimes I take advantage just 'cause I'm a star I know it's wrong so I'm on my knees prayin' to God Father please forgive us, couldn't tell the difference and it's on me I don't need to seek attention just to keep these women on me I know it's wrong I know it's wrong I know it's wrong I know it's wrong

Honorable C.N.O.T.E Choppa make a nigga sing What you say, Choppa? Git git (NLE Shit, bitch, git) Git git Fuck it, bitch I'm thuggin', the Glock, I'm tuckin' (Tuckin') Up it, I knock yo' muffin, end of discussion (Glltt, glltt) I don't do no fuckin' cuffin', I fuck yo' cousin (Yeah) She say that my dick is lovely, I think she love me (Huh, ayy) Hit him with the Drake, I ain't talkin' 'bout Aubrey You say you a killer, lil' nigga you flagin' And just like a pizza, I want me some toppings And if it's a problem, you know I'ma solve it (Bitch) Buckle yo' seat, bitch I'm ready to drill you And just like a ghost, I give you the chills (Yeah) Bitch I'm deep in the water, they call me a seal (Yeah) You was fuckin' with me, somehow you got killed I'm like, "Ooh", I be goin' coupe, I might have to rob you Pull up where that nigga work, shoot him though the drive-through And don't speak up on my name, nigga, I advise you (Bitch) I put a bullet through yo' head (Where?) Right between yo' fuckin' eyes, fool I got a tool on me, Handy Mandy, that bitch dandy Just like a squirrel, bitch I want me a nut, just call me Sandy On Halloween, I was robbin' the kids for that candy Now, I grew up hittin' licks and these niggas, they can't stand it Drop-top Chop, bitch I knock that top I broke a bitch spinal cord when I gave her backshots I put a nigga on Fox That's if he talkin' to the cops Choppa how many bodies you got? Bitch, I got a lot I put the Perc' up in my Henny so you know I'm gettin' silly I leave yo' body in the old town road, just like I'm Billy Bitch I'm Gucci'd down, now, a nigga used to shop in Tenni's And all these Pampers-ass hoes really out here feelin' chitty (Yeah yeah) Ayy, ayy That's how you feel (Feel) I'm on the block with the steel (Steel) I'm in the club and I'm runnin' these hoes This shit feel like it's track and field If you talkin' 'bout the crippin' shit homie, I been doin' this shit for years (Fool) What the price homie? All this ice on me, this shit got me up on chills (Choo) Ride through the city, with yo' bitch, get my dick sucked Bank account on Antetokounmpo, we gettin' big bucks Big BN chain name, never got my shit took I heard them niggas talkin' smoke, well bitch you know that shit up Before I work it out with a bitch I do a sit-up .40 to his mouth, I gun him down, now he can't get up I heard the opps talkin', I know how to close their lips up This shit get personal, I put his momma in the pick-up .40 on my side, Choppa on the left of me Please don't judge me, all this weed and beef get the best of me Heard you got a thang for bad bitches, but yo' bitch chubby I could be the ugliest nigga in the room and yo' bitch'd still fuck me I heard she's got no cash, you on a low budget You payin' for that ass, you got a whole budget You gettin' to it with ya' hoe, because yo' how buggin' I teach that bitch a lil' Pilates, have her toes touchin' Yeah You know what the fuck goin' on 901 shit Bitch Yeah, yeah, ayy, yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah (Glltt)