Picture Me Grapin’ lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah, turn me up a lil' bit more
Just a lil' bit more
What he say, picture me Grapin'?
Ayy, we movin', ayy
Ayy, ayy
Oh, they done f*cked up with this right here
NLE the Top Shotta
I got the bomb like Al-Qaeda for real, n*gga (NLE the Top Shotta, n*gga)

[Verse 1]
Picture me rollin' (Yeah)
Fat Cackwood smokin', couple b*tches in motion
We ain't causin' commotion, but I be braggin' and boastin'
I put the most in, I get the most out, no doubt
I brought the Glock in and took my show out, I sold out
We break them poles out for your show out, then roll out
I got him hit and then I rapped about it, think he know now
Put a duffle bag up on his head, my n*gga cash out
I get the cheese in large amounts, they callin' me the cash cow
We get the P's, we get the pints, and then we tax 'em, Uncle Sam
Give him teddy bears and t-shirts, my dawg put him down
Told that n*gga get from 'round me, I don't trust him, so it's f*ck him
Brand new chopper, suppressed the muzzle, it— when I bust 'em
We slide on 'em, hit the brother, then we double back with different cutters
They know it's real, they know it's drama, so they call they mamas (Ayy)
[Chorus]
I live the life of a top shotta until the day I die
Yeah, you know I'm a thug, n*gga, but I'ma still cry
We ain't doin' no drive-bys, I look him in his eye
Stand over with this fire and I'ma watch that n*gga die
n*ggas know how we comin'-comin', we slammin' like we Drummond
n*ggas pull up, we dumpin'-dumpin', we shoot and it ain't nothin'
We leavin' them n*ggas slumpin'-slumpin', see my gun, they runnin'
A hundred rounds, keep 'em comin', comin', murder on my conscience

[Verse 2]
I got this pistol in my pants and I'm posted where I wanna be
I made my own label, I can't see no n*gga signin' me
I got too much to lose, I'm takin' you, you think you takin' me
I never been a fool, I watch your moves, you think you snakin' me (I'm watchin')
Real killer, all my n*ggas feel safe with me
Even though they really supposed to be securin' me
I told Big Sean that I don't really need security, but that's my n*gga
But ain't nan' n*gga put fear in me
I sincerely wrote a note, but they ain't hearin' me (They ain't hearin' me, cuh)
I give a junkie line of coke to go on killing sprees (They ain't hearin' me, cuh)
I told the b*tch to get the drop while she was on her knees
She asked me what's in it for her, I said, "I got a treat," I skeeted
Yeah, I left it on her face and I told her, "That's the only thing you gettin' from me, babe"
I live the life of a boss player until the day I die (Until the day I die)
Couple b*tches they feelin' on me, they sayin' that I'm fly (They sayin' that I'm fly)
Feel like 2Pac, I got two b*tches, they f*ckin' in the spot
Her ass fat, I'm grabbin', grippin', I'ma squeeze it 'til it pop
You know I get around, I get your pants down, and then I rock
Hood n*gga, I'ma pull my pants down, keep on my socks
Jamaican n*gga, she be feelin' on my hair, she like my locs
I put her head on my c*ck, I told her, "Suck it, don't stop"
Ayy, you can call me Tommy, I got the drank up in my belly
We slid on 'em, got to poppin', know you got the message
We ain't 'bout the talkin', b*tch, we 'bout the sparkin'
Pull up on him then we caution tape and white chalk him
I got a child, but my BM really be on bullsh*t
I'm askin' God why I got these problems on this pulpit
Heard another diss today, I put him on my shooter list
Suited up, I'm all-black, I'm ready to go do a man
Shoot a man, gun in hand
Have him runnin' like the running man
Where you runnin' when I'm sprayin'?
A couple bands wrapped in rubber bands
Put it all up on your head
Bands make 'em dance when them choppers start playin'
You sayin' what you sayin', but I'm sayin' what I'm sayin'
And my n*gga off the Xans, he'll blam on your man (Brr)
[Chorus]
I live the life of a top shotta until the day I die
Yeah, you know I'm a thug, n*gga, but I'ma still cry
We ain't doin' no drive-bys, I look him in his eye
Stand over with this fire and I'ma watch that n*gga die
n*ggas know how we comin'-comin', we slammin' like we Drummond
n*ggas pull up, we dumpin'-dumpin', we shoot and it ain't nothin'
We leavin' them n*ggas slumpin'-slumpin', see my gun, they runnin'
A hundred rounds, keep 'em comin', comin', murder on my conscience

[Outro]
Yeah, picture me rollin'
We bend the curve when we creepin', when we step
Picture me Grapin'
Man, them choppers move them right to left
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Picture me rollin'
NLE the Top Shotta, got the bombs like Al-Qaeda
Picture me Grapin' (Brr)