Choppa Docter Lyrics – YoungBoy Never Broke Again
Huh, burn that *** and do ’em bad, yeah
Lil’ Top, I’m on his ass
Stolen Glocks inside this Jag’, yeah
Ford-o-matic with that bag
They don’t wanna see me bop, ***
She could eat my ***, ***
Hold on, clean a *** block, they know I stay ridin’ with that mop
Hold on, Forgiato’s, beat her back and all that I know
Hold on, tell the backup pull upside and shoot the side-door
I ain’t *** that boy, go ask his boys, for all that I know
I was countin’ up plenty mula, like I hit the lotto
Hold on, dirty-ass baby mama, dirty-ass ***’ choppa
Dirty-ass ***’ ***, I came up, straight from the bottom
Slimy-ass ***, wack that boy in front of his ***’ mama
With that *** that I is, hit inside his head infront his todler
Diddy boppin’, he got ***’ problems
Get on pills and start tweakin’, he be ***’ wylin’
One get killed, he get even, put drums in them choppers
I want his life, you can’t save him, ’cause I am the doctor
And I am the problem, and I am the issue
And I am the remedy, turn up with my ***
I got the ratchetest ***, come from rag to gas to riches
Went from fightin’, then to killin’, cool like Antifreeze, then blew the ceilin’
Got ahead of me, ***, no you didn’t, paper, I’ve been sippin’ sealant
Hurstin’, I’ve been lurkin’, catch ’em workin’ and I pop out with it
Where at, I’m gon’ split his fitted, FIFA, ***, no we can’t kick it
Want it, ‘fore I hit it, lick it, oh, lil *** watch, I dive up in it
Divin’ and he better not beat me, bet he not gon’ see next season
Occasion, I got season in these heaters, this the hottest feastin’
MAC and it’s small, but lethal, and I call this *** Mac Mini
Record the boy, like Jason, think I’m Jason, when I’m masked up, ***
*** it, they be hatin’ slime, triple O got all kinds
Double O inside the clip, rollin’ out, it’s ’bout time
***, you best respect my mind, them niggas from your project dyin’
When them hitta’s go to slidin’, catch him, hop out, walk him down
Huh, burn that *** and do ’em bad, yeah
Lil’ Top, I’m on his ass
Stolen Glocks inside this Jag’, yeah
Ford-o-matic with that bag
They don’t wanna see me bop, ***
She could eat my ***, ***
Hold on, clean a *** block, they know I stay ridin’ with that mop
Hold on, Forgiato’s, beat her back and all that I know
Hold on, tell the backup pull upside and shoot the side-door
I ain’t *** that boy, go ask his boys, for all that I know
I was countin’ up plenty mula, like I hit the lotto
Hold on, dirty-ass baby mama, dirty-ass ***’ choppa
Dirty-ass ***’ ***, I came up, straight from the bottom
Slimy-ass ***, wack that boy in front of his ***’ mama
With that *** that I is, hit inside his head infront his todler
Diddy boppin’, he got ***’ problems
Get on pills and start tweakin’, he be ***’ wylin’
One get killed, he get even, put drums in them choppers
I want his life, you can’t save him, ’cause I am the doctor