Video musicale

NLE Choppa – Who TF Up In My Trap (Official Audio)
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In primo piano

Crediti

PERFORMING ARTISTS
NLE Choppa
NLE Choppa
Vocals
Javar Rockamore
Javar Rockamore
Programming
Keyz
Keyz
Programming
Stonii
Stonii
Programming
Rodney O & Joe Cooley
Rodney O & Joe Cooley
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bobby Reese
Bobby Reese
Songwriter
Bryson Potts
Bryson Potts
Songwriter
Jeffrey Page
Jeffrey Page
Songwriter
Joe Cooley
Joe Cooley
Songwriter
Jordan Houston
Jordan Houston
Songwriter
Patrick Houston
Patrick Houston
Songwriter
Paul Beauregard
Paul Beauregard
Songwriter
Theodore Thomas
Theodore Thomas
Songwriter
Rodney O
Rodney O
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tiernan Cranny
Tiernan Cranny
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Aaron Mattes
Aaron Mattes
Mixing Engineer
Javar Rockamore
Javar Rockamore
Producer
Keyz
Keyz
Producer
Stonii
Stonii
Producer
Timon Adams
Timon Adams
Recording Engineer

Testi

Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh (T-t-t-t-t-think we found a loophole) Mmm, uh, mmm, mmm Fuck up in my trap Who the fuck up in my trap? Who the fuck up in my trap? Who the fuck up in my trap? Who the fuck is in my trap, man Who the fuck, ayy (Ayy) Who the fuck outside my trap? Say you wanna cop a gram Bitch, you better cop a pint, or an ounce, or a hail He said he ain't tryna cop, rob his ass, strip him down We gon' take his car, have him on the bus, the Greyhound You don't have to be accurate when you got a 100 rounds Bullets hit the back of his neck, put his face up in the ground We got a 100 shots, I bet his body drop, I made a milli' Servin' beef up in this bitch like Felix, shottas as we get to drop Put one up in the head before I do that dirt, ain't got a cop The choppa bullets rip the dread's bloods, leakin' on the locks We shot at shit, you know I'm General We don't care where you at? Bitch, you know we finish you They say, "Lil Choppa bring what?", all them niggas know it's you So, don't you hop up in my car 'Cause you know it's murder fool, yeah, yeah Catch me in the trap wit' two Dracos up in my lap And I got fiends runnin' out that want the crack like Bobby Brown I had a shootout, seen his body drop I can't lie, that shit was really fun I don't know about you, thug But I really love my guns You see this .26? It got a switch and it can hold a drum Play a Glizzy automatic, yeah, you know it's red rum Tryna sell Choppa a strap? Ayy, he gon' take your gun He seen me out and tried to give me dabs, I slapped him wit' my palm I blow exotic, dope, exotic, gas you know it keep me calm (Ye, ye, ye) We never stoppin', crashin' out until we see the police come He seen me, got to shakin', so I know that nigga scared of us Left blood up on the scene, but I don't think the scene was red enough We spinned again, and dropped his body while I use the same gun He ain't make it to the doctor, bitch it's DOA up in this gun Did the drill, changed the barrel, ain't no case up on this gun I dropped the opp, I made him twirl, it's ballerinas with this gun Who the fuck outside my trap? Say you wanna cop a gram Bitch, you better cop a pint, or an ounce, or a hail He said he ain't tryna cop, rob his ass, strip him down We gon' take his car, have him on the bus, the Greyhound You don't have to be accurate when you got a 100 rounds Bullets hit the back of his neck Put his face up in the ground, yeah, yeah Nigga, NLE the Top Shotta I've been a problem but I seen him through the dogs, bitch (Who?) Huh, yeah, you know we on that shotta shit And it ain't no politics, bruh, you get jumped quick (Who the fuck is? Who the fuck is?) Uh, ain't no cap (Who the fuck is? Who the fuck is?) (Fuck is, who the fuck is?)
Writer(s): Javar Rockamore, Robert Reese, Theodore Thomas, Bryson Potts, Ron Montgomery Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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