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muhammad ali - whoppa wit da choppa lyrics

[intro]
(reuel, stop playin’ with these n*ggas)

[verse]
keep your clothes on, b*tch, that p*ssy not biting
i’m good with this glock, but beat your ass like i’m mike tyson (b*tch)
ain’t goin’ back and forth for the net, i am not typing (nope)
my glock don’t like girth, she got got a d*ck, like this b*tch dyking
i’ve been trying to smoke a opp, but these n*ggas hiding (on gang)
oh, you miss mookie? well meet him in the sky
it’s a celebration every time a n*gga die
i was lookin’ for some netri, had to settle for some three*five
put your bands up, n*gga let’s go rack*for*rack
i know the opps sad, they went to funerals back*to*back
diss on leek, get your ass turned to a pack
jumpout dissed on the guys and got his stupid ass smacked
aye, i’m relaxin’ in the booth, ain’t tellin’ no lies
give your dawg his gun back, n*gga that’s your bro fire
your n*ggas buying jewelry, but my n*ggas buying more fire
he ain’t goin’ home tonight, we’ll catch him at his hoe spot (stupid ass n*gga)
how your momma get shot and you won’t get in the field (fooli’)
if that don’t make you slide, n*gga, i don’t know what will (he a b*tch)
i heard your dawg got caught tryna do a drill
f*ckin’ crash dummy, better hope that he don’t f*ckin’ squeal (rat)
all these n*ggas they’re my sons, give ’em baby bibs
we the ones got you sneakin’, wanna do a drill (on gang)
we got everybody sayin’ “ku” in the ‘ville
i don’t f*ck with n*ggas, ’cause these n*ggas don’t keep sh*t real
aye, we the ones said “we the opps” and n*gga, f*ck a deal (b*tch)
pop this 30 baby, tell me how it make you feel (dirty 30)
if you don’t wanna f*ck, you can get up out my crib
ain’t doin’ all that talkin’, you can leave, that’s just what it is
n*gga, you don’t want these problems with whoppa wit dat choppa (whop)
’cause b*tch, you know we comin’ greenlight and spinz right behind him (whop)
whoppa he be snappin’, d*mn, why n0body signed him? (whop)
the labels know i’m drillin’, all the opps tryna find ’em
bullets hit a n*gga, he can’t talk, look like he miming
all these hoes do what i say, but i ain’t simon (no)
keep it real, we be havin’ all the opps crying (p*ssy ass n*gga)
god, strike me down in this booth if i’m lying
hold on, real quick, stop the f*ckin’ beat
i’m slowed up on lean, on this act, this for my n*gga leek
5 years later, n*ggas still dying ’bout beef
i hit your baby mama on the s, it was just me and [?]
aye, she told me pay for that p*ssy, that’s just not me (at all)
i said “i want it on the house”, she said “it’s not free” (come on)
i’m tryna hit her with my stick, but this ain’t hockey
i’m whoppa wit dat choppa, but these hands muhammad ali (whop, whop, whop)
[outro]
yeah, yeah these hands muhammad ali (b*tch)
beat your ass like i’m rocky (whop)
man, [?], they know how we rockin’, n*gga
free the gang

- whoppa wit da choppa lyrics

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