NLE Choppa – Camelot lyrics

Yeah
FreshDuzIt
Yeah
Huh? Huh? Huh?

I ain’t gon’ say too much when a n**** speakin’ on that hot s***
F*** the police ’cause them b****** ain’t gon’ stop s***
Oppositions mad, if they play they gettin’ popped quick
Flyest n**** in the game, yeah, I’m a cockpit
Posted on Camelot with a hundred some shottas
I be swimmin’ with the sharks, lil’ n****, you a lobster
Bullets heat a n**** up, like he eatin’ on some pasta
And shout out to Kingston, I keep me some Rastas

My n***** trappin’ out the bando, shout out to the Migos (The Migos)
If a n**** knock wrong, shoot him through the peephole (Grrah)
The trap always open, b****, we ain’t never closed
We movin’ them packs and we movin’ them kilos
Step one, step two, do my dance in this b****
Got a hundred some drums like a band in this b****
Man, she keep on bitchin’, all that naggin’ and s***
Ho, shut the f*** up and just gag on this d***
I’m a side n****, and I love when she swallow
If her n**** say something, hit him with a hollow
That glizzy (Yeah), knock your meat out your taco (Your taco)
Flexin’ on these b******, they call me Johnny Bravo
School of hard knocks, let me take you to class
My b**** is real skinny, but she got a lot of a**
I love counting money, I get a lot of cash
If you try to take it from me, his toe gon’ have a tag, yeah

I ain’t gon’ say too much when a n**** speakin’ on that hot s***
F*** the police ’cause them b****** ain’t gon’ stop s***
Oppositions mad, if they play they gettin’ popped quick
Flyest n**** in the game, yeah, I’m a cockpit
Posted on Camelot with a hundred some shottas
I be swimmin’ with the sharks, lil’ n****, you a lobster
Bullets heat a n**** up, like he eatin’ on some pasta
And shout out to Kingston, I keep me some Rastas

All up in the party, you know we keep them carbines (Them Carbines)
Bring a n**** chills like I work at Baskin-Robbins (Robbins)
I love Batman, but a young n**** robbin’
Firework show ’cause my n***** get to sparkin’
I’m a hothead, I’ll crash any second (Yeah)
He speakin’ on who? Send his b**** a** to heaven (To heaven)
Extended clips when we tote them MAC-11’s (Uh-huh)
My n*****, they be Crippin’, they be screamin’ out them sevens (Crip)
Why you investigating me? ‘Cause I don’t know a thing
And I’ma always keep it solid, I’ll never sing
You know I’m Shotta Fam, always gotta rep the gang (Shotta)
He kept on dissin’, so a n**** had to snatch his brain, huh? (Gang, gang)
Had to snatch his brain, huh? (Had to snatch that n**** brain)
I had to snatch his brain, yeah (Had to snatch that n**** brain)
I had to make it rain (Make that m*********** rain)
R. Kelly, let that f*****’ chopper sing, yeah (Make it sing)