Future Karate Chop (Ft. Casino) lyrics

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Karate Chop (ft. Casino) by Future Karate Chop lyrics (ft. Casino) [Intro] You know, it's just some real nigga shit, a real nigga story You know what I'm saying? (Hook) (aye) Slang a bunch of narcotics (then what) Pull up in that new rarri (yea) Living like John Gotti (the mob) Chopping bricks like karate (chwaaa) Drink a bunch of codeine (drank) Serving to the dope fiends (they smokers) Blowing money, stay clean (free bands) Michael Jackson, Billy Jean [Verse 1: Future] Got a panamera on a young nigga neck (porche) Got a young bitch pulling up in a vet (she working) Smoke a lot of kush and I have a lot of sex Had to beat the grind up, ran up my check bitch a nigga get money, nigga get that Hold up, brother run it, nigga sell up all the crack Who can hear that nigga lying, all the words that don't I get group up my lil with the duffer, don't wanna look 50 thousand on your watch, dark nigga splurge Hold up ace of spade, bout to sip a coup of syrup Keep a young nigga working at a buzz a k I'ma take a phone call, bust a every pay (Hook) (aye) Slang a bunch of narcotics (then what) Pull up in that new rarri (yea) Living like John Gotti (the mob) Chopping bricks like karate (chwaaa) Drink a bunch of codeine (drank) Serving to the dope fiends (they smokers) Blowing money, stay clean (free bands) Michael Jackson, Billy Jean Whip it, never cake, just an orange spider Young nigga play with keys, nigga type writer At the pole Jordan got it our nose snitching, I can put it on a bottle In a 4 door beamer, driving with a rifle Nigga where you at, nigga we gonn put up on you Young bitch living like janet in the 80's We was grinding up from a toup and a baby Got the girl dripping bit like a Jerry Curl Got the stuff on cup and it's full of syrup Sending all the fronting message, call me, let me work (Hook) (aye) Slang a bunch of narcotics (then what) Pull up in that new rarri (yea) Living like John Gotti (the mob) Chopping bricks like karate (chwaaa) Drink a bunch of codeine (drank) Serving to the dope fiends (they smokers) Blowing money, stay clean (free bands) Michael Jackson, Billy Jean Minding like I'm fronting, not you, go back Killers rob me like I'm gotti If I trip you know I'm sorry I be fresh don't need no stylist I be geeking on them mollies Sery makes noclean My hair like a triple bean I got workers like machines All I do is sit and dream Have my niggas serve fiends I get dumber than orlean (Hook) (aye) Slang a bunch of narcotics (then what) Pull up in that new rarri (yea) Living like John Gotti (the mob) Chopping bricks like karate (chwaaa) Drink a bunch of codeine (drank) Serving to the dope fiends (they smokers) Blowing money, stay clean (free bands) Michael Jackson, Billy Jean.

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