Chops Out - Drakeo The Ruler, Tory Lanez, Ralfy The Plug

First off, put a drum on it

Terrorize these niggas, I came in with Big Pun on me

Clip long as phone numbers

They ain’t know nothing

Wait, what this nigga say?

Start the song over

Six pole bearers

In loving memory in bold letters, dumbass

It’s two and one on the scoreboard, ain’t no run back

I bet he couldn’t dodge these shells in that Demon

Swiss cheese, heard somebody yell «Jesus»

But they can’t hear you

Jumpman, everybody wearing mics up in your pictures

Rats is facts, I’m finna put this cheese on you

High beams on the 40, white tees looking bloody

Pussy nigga shoutin' out «Ayy, me» while we clubbin'

Chops out, mops out, shut his block down

It’s a lot of opps out, but they ain’t know nothing

See this switch on this Glock?

I paid four-hundred (Tuh)

Chops out, mops out, it’s a lot of opps out (Tuh, nigga)

But they ain’t know nothing

On gang and them, they ain’t know nothing

Big 40 bulging, got titties, you’ll get the whole hundred

Good perky meat is all I got, I ain’t with no loving

Your bitch ass’ll get popped, don’t be doing no mugging

It’s a whole lot of old niggas hating, a bunch of Joe Buddens

I was in the trenches, your bitch ass wasn’t doing no thugging

I’m handing chops and mops out to all my pole busters

He on the 'Gram with a fake Glock, he’s a ghostbuster

I’m selling pills at his spot, I’m a toe crusher

Stincs got our own chains and whips, don’t need no loners

Your bum ass gon' stay broke 'cause you’s a prolonger

I was about to nut but she give me a band and said go longer

Chops out, mops out, shut his block down

It’s a lot of opps out, but they ain’t know nothing

See this switch on this Glock?

I paid four-hundred (Tuh)

Chops out, mops out, it’s a lot of opps out (Tuh, nigga)

But they ain’t know nothing

I (I), will not leave my gun with yo' shooter

Dope boy I know for a fact that I’ll shoot ya

I’m tryna flee off the scene with a cougar

Strapped just like Drakeo attached to the ruler

Quarantine over, niggas still ain’t outside

Niggas killed your mans and you still ain’t out slidin'

GSR test pissing on my hands quietly

If you need a pill then hit a lick, don’t slide with me

Yeah, no doubt, tell the judge I’m a fiend just to get it thrown out

I’ll Jazzy Jeff a nigga and kick his ho out

Off the hipper like a stripper when I pull the pole out, mm

She say I’m smooth in these Chuck Taylors

Put my burner in your purse, that’s a love language

Yeah, you say you tough, she said you nothing dangerous

Yeah, I’ll do rocks for twelve months then I’m on face

Hit the hang out 'cause the gang out

We could cut, fake or we could bang out

(Nigga)

Chops out, mops out, shut his block down

It’s a lot of opps out, but they ain’t know nothing

See this switch on this Glock?

I paid four-hundred (Tuh)

Chops out, mops out, it’s a lot of opps out (Tuh, nigga)

But they ain’t know nothing