Choppa Lyrics - Joey Fatts

Cocky and conceited, I got a bunch of reasons 

Refused to be mistreated, I'll be damned if I repeat it 

I be that Pretty Flacko, I tell her go retweet it 

I ask her for her number, I fuck her, then delete it 

Chilling in my drop, nigga beating down yo' block 

Shakin' off the pigs and I leave it like my top 

Bitch up on my cock, got my hand up on my Glock, uh 

Money in my sock, nigga give me what you got 

You could call me Mr. Retail, PL for my females 

Bitches suck me down low, you niggas on the DL 

I interrupt yo shit quick, yeah I'm on my Ezel 

Dump 'em by the ocean you can find 'em with the seashells 

Rolling, rolling, rolling, I ain't talking 'bout no pills 

Cars stolen, stolen, make 'em tell about the wheels 

Gettin' all this money give a fuck 'bout how you feel 

Feelin' on this (?) 

Chopper, choppa hundred shots, knocking pictures off your wall 

All these hoes on my balls like give me what you got 

Straght drop in a pot, got the watch, throw it once 

And it's hot, non-stop like give me what you got, what you got 

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Strapped up and weeded, beefin' I got my reasons 

We creepin', better pray that you blessed when the snub sneazin' 

My bitches, love eatin' so that's threesome when we meetin' 

Yo bitch cheatin' wait 'til you leave and she swallow semen 

I'm probably the realest breathin' under 25 

I'm the finest, 2Pac Shakur if he didn't die 

From the side where hammers is hereditary, Michael Vick with clips 

Pull off the hip and send bullets to your secondary 

Run the field like Barry, livin' legendary 

Foreign cars vary, stickin' dick in business secretaries 

Hoes give me they heart like it's the fourteenth of February 

Played up from the start, I'm just fucking legal for you to marry 

It's too much money in this world to worry 'bout a bitch 

Unless she workin' the strip making my pockets flip 

My kind of bitch, man she quick and slide off in a Jeep 

I haven't trusted a bitch since T.L.C. creep 

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