[Intro]
Chop, chop, chop (Yeah)
Chop, chop, chop (Drought 3)
Chop, chop, chop
Chop, chop, chop (Yeah)
Scott Storch
[Refrain]
Bitch, I'm back on my grizzy, Young Money, where you at?
Two tables and a mic, tell the DJ run it back
Bitch, I'm back on my grizzy, Young Money, where you at?
Two tables and a mic, tell the DJ run it back (Bi—)
[Interlude]
Chop, chop, chop
Chop, chop, chop (You ready now? Cut me up, Drew)
Chop, chop, chop (Cut the music up, baby)
Chop, chop, chop (Yeah, I'm goin' in)
Scott Storch
[Verse]
Bitch, I'm back on my grizzy, Young Money, where you at?
If you fuck with Young Money, Young Money, where you at?
Like the Energizer Bunny with a battery pack
Boy, that chopper keep drumming like brrat-da-dat-dat
Or ba-rum-ba-bum-bum and I'm so young
But I'm a giant like fee-fi-fo-fum
Just bought a new crib inside Sodom
Got some money put away in case the hurricane come
I'm a fuckin' shame, huh? Yeah, I know, yeah, I know
I go out the country to get all my clothes and my hoes
I go out my way just to get my dro and my dough
'Cause I love it more than I love my hoes, yes, I dos
I got gasoline comin' out my pores, I'm a torch
I got glasses like that white boy Scott Storch and a Porsche
I got license for the scorch, snipers at your porch
Rifles by the forts and we shoot up courts
The judge just a bitch, the jury suck dick
I'm an Eastside Blood and I don't smoke that Crip
I smoke that kush, first name Bubba
First name Young, last name Stunna
Carter in the office, take notes when I'm talkin'
Smooth as the cruise boat, floats when I'm walkin'
I boast 'cause I'm ballin', I'm 'posed to be ballin'
When I'm on the phone with bitches, man, the money keep callin'
You ain't satisfied 'til your son'll be callin'
Tellin' you where to leave the money in the morning
Okay, you want a zombie movie instead
That's when you walk in your house and everybody dead
Yeah, I could take a shit where I stand, where I stand
And watch you pussies piss in your pants
You ain't a man, you're a ho, I could kill him with the flow
And then play the guitar at the fuckin' funeral
Yeah, big guns, so they drinkin' big shots
And my gang go Saddam Hussein and missile-launch
The Korean call me Wayne Chang, now listen, ma
I don't know karate, but after the brain, I'll kick you out
You niggas suck like Tony Romo, no homo
And I'm all about my money, I get paid for promo, yeah
I'm the man in this bitch
They say money talks, well, I'm the ventriloquist
And if I ever jump, I'll probably land in your bitch
Boy, that ho colder than my hand and my wrist
Boy, I'm more cooler than a fan and a mint
And when I'm done, this track will need a couple bandages
I be with savages and I'm above average
I'm a crazy-ass star like a fucking asterisk
You niggas can't see me, I'm on my Casper shit
Runnin' so much game, I fuck around and lap a bitch
The club like a grocery, I just bag a bitch
And you know I'm gon' score like Deion after picks
I'm rollin' on a pill, she get that morning-after dick
And when my roll came down, guess what I did after it?
[Chorus]
I pop-popped and took some Patrón shots
I pop-popped and took some Grey Goose shots
I pop-popped, yeah
Young Money, bitch, and if you niggas wan' do it
We chop-chop and leave your back on the block
We pop cops and ain't no rats on my block
I got shop, I got that dro, I got them pills, I got that yay
Give it to them hoes and watch them bitches freak away
[Outro]
Young Money, bitch
Drought 3, in your neck, pussy
Like an Adam's apple, nigga
Weezy Baby, the god, amen, gone
