Choppa On My Shoulda Lyrics

Choppa On My Shoulda Lyrics

(Mercy Beats, nigga)

Yeah, hmm

(DrellOnTheTrack)

Yeah, huh

Big dog shit, believe that

What? What it is, bitch?

Salute me when you see me, nigga, 'cause I'm a soldier

You ain't recognize, you ain't notice how I tote that choppa on my shoulder?

I'm a G and I'ma run this shit like a G, know he supposed to

So cutthroat, you'll think that they brought Slim back from Magnolia

I'm a convicted felon buyin' these illegal guns without no holster

I'ma catch you, 'fore you, barely even wanna slump you over

I got a gangster bitch, I'm a gangster nigga

She know how to hold me

I'll stick the dice game that my friend attend

Then, tell 'em one of them niggas owe me

Know this ho just tryna play me close 'cause I notice and I know for surely

Tryna get me at a pinpoint, you was gon' let 'em rollercoast me

I ain't far from 'round, I brought my boy straight out the Nola

I got brown drippin' from my nose, don't think once for to bash me

You don't know me, bitch (Yeah)

This for them gangsters and them bangers locked down in the feds

This for them fives, known to get dangerous, bust that nigga head

Ooh, this for old school who'll whoop one of you dumb niggas from thinkin' that you— (Yeah)

Look, I got my Llama, nigga

I want all the problems (Woah, woah)

Tell my lil' brother, "Keep them choppers from up out my mama house"

Bitch, tell your mammy watch her mouth

I make my cousin walk her down

That's Courtney fam' send sweet pea, and I got some straight up out the South

Be on gangster shit, from my family tree just look it down

This for my Uncle Andy, real stick-up artist, ain't make it home

I don't want that bitch, she salt me down

Strung out on dope, ho, leave me 'lone

I'm fresh as fuck, that ain't enough, she still bump them niggas songs

That wasn't my baby still showed love, dirty bitch I held you down

I catch your BD at the club and I might knock his ass down

Bitch, I'm a thug, now move your cappin' ass around

Got plenty rounds, I'm in this bitch with all my rounds, yeah

This for them gangsters and them bangers locked down in the feds

This for them fives, known to get dangerous, bust that nigga head

Ooh, this for old school who'll whoop one of you dumb niggas for thinkin' that you—

Yeah

You best to call the feds

Ain't no sense to hold your head

These bullets rippin' through your hand

And we pull off once you dead

I'm with them murder babies, they on it crazy

They know that I'll pay it

I'm talkin' concentrated, I'm medicated

So, everything be red

I let them shooters get 'em, they too official

I'll make sure that they fed

You keep that secret, so you takin' care your ass, I respect that

Bitch, we'll tell 'em move you from your dads with your dog ass

Tell that pussy bitch, "Don't run with 10," get on y'all ass

Salute me when you see me, nigga, 'cause I'm a soldier

You ain't recognize, you ain't notice how I tote that choppa on my shoulder?

I'm a G and I'ma run this shit like a G, know he supposed to

So cutthroat, you’ll think that they brought Slim back from Magnolia