Artist: Future f/ Casino Album: F.B.G. The Movie Song: Karate Chop Typed by: AZ Lyrics [Intro] You know, This just some real nigga shit, a real nigga story You know what I'm saying? [Chorus] (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 round a young nigga neck (porche) Got a young bitch pulling up in a vet (she working) Smoke a lot of kush & I have a lot of sex Had to beat the grind up, ran up my check Bitch nigga get money, nigga get that Roll a blunt of chronic, nigga sell a lot of crack You can hit a nigga line, order what you want I can whoop a Maserati, pulling up a donk 50,000 on yo watch, young nigga splurge Pop a ace of spade bottle, sip a lot of syrup Keep a young nigga workin' ..... I'mma take a phone call, hustle everyday [Chorus] [Verse 2: Future] Whipping up a cake, just to go and snatch a spider Young nigga play with keys, like a type writer Al Capone, John Gotti was a nigga idle I was never snitching, I can put that on the Bible In a 4 door beamer, driving with a rifle Nigga where you at, nigga we go pull up on ya Young Bitch looking like Janet in the 80's We was grinding up from a tube & a baby Got the girl dripping wet like a jerry curl Got a styrofoam cup and its full of syrup Send it over from Lil Mexico & Let me Work I can get 36 for a clean shirt [Chorus] [Verse 3: Casino] Hol' up sir, you in my Rari Money like I'm Frank Matthews Killers around me like I'm Gotti If I tricked you, know I'm sorry I be fresh don't need no stylist I be geeking on them mollies Sell remix don't sell no cleans My hand like a triple beam I got workers like machine All I do is sell dreams Have my niggaz serve fiends I get up and then I lean [Chorus]