CHROME! ft. nightlock Lyrics

Bring Glocks we gon' hit in your dome

Talk shit you gon' duck from the Chrome

I talk with a semi, got bullets ain't ready

Lil bitch we pull up to yo home

Lil boy talking smack on the phone

You gon' be just watching your tone

We hit with the strap got bags up on bags

Your Bitch still loving my bone

I run up and hit like I'm Michael

Gon' run from my bullets - a rifle

You still typin' fast I get to the stack

You my little clone my disciple

Gon' scream when you know we your rivals

You talk on the net I'm your idol

Yo life like a game we pullin' the trigger

You scared this a kind of survival (Aye, Aye, Aye)

Bring Glocks we gon' hit in your dome

Talk shit you gon' duck from the Chrome

I talk with a semi, got bullets ain't ready

Lil bitch we pull up to yo home

Lil boy talking smack on the phone

You gon' be just watching your tone

We hit with the strap got bags up on bags

Your Bitch still loving my bone

I run up and hit like I'm Michael

Gon' run from my bullets - a rifle

You still typin' fast I get to the stack

You my little clone my disciple

Gon' scream when you know we your rivals

You talk on the net I'm your idol

Yo life like a game we pullin' the trigger

You scared this a kind of survival

They calling me Freddy the way that I kill

I pull up wit .40's Bitch getting a thrill

She got a big attitude ain't got a mil

You still in ya crib doing nothing, just chill

She wanting a Rari she rocking new pills

I chop wit a Glockie run fast King of Hill

Fuck all that wit the beam and and deal

You wanting it more now you try and steal

Bitch we got the Louis the Prada the Benz

You tryna' slide on me ain't nun but your friends

Ain't all big they gon' try and pretend

They scared they gon' run up in a blend

Got a big Choppa I aim at they head

Pullin the trigger ain't talkin' like ted

They dumb and confused when I'm makin' this bread

They wanna be me bitch gon' take this lead

Aye, .45 straight to your dome (Uh, huh)

Lil' bitch wanna come to my home (Uh, huh)

A nigga gon' up it The Choppa be dumping

We send him to hell with his soul (Uh, huh)

Get with it

Get right

Bands to the left, and the knock on my right

Everyone shot, you need luck to survive

Shorty a thot, give me head in the ride (On gang)

That boy ended up deceased

Damn 2 steps, leaning off the lean

He pressed, take him off the scene (Uh, huh)

The next bitch is on her knees

This Glock detrimental He hit in his dental

He sending like half of the shots that we sent him

2 Tone Glock, this bitch finna' end him

Everything dead, bullet holes where we sensed him

Bring Glocks we gon' hit in your dome

Talk shit you gon' duck from the Chrome

I talk with a semi, got bullets ain't ready

Lil bitch we pull up to yo home

Lil boy talking smack on the phone

You gon' be just watching your tone

We hit with the strap got bags up on bags

Your Bitch still loving my bone

I run up and hit like I'm Michael

Gon' run from my bullets - a rifle

You still typin' fast I get to the stack

You my little clone my disciple

Gon' scream when you know we your rivals

You talk on the net I'm your idol

Yo life like a game we pullin' the trigger

You scared this a kind of survival