Chopper

[Intro: Buk, Billy Blue]

And now ladies and gentlemen: Lupe Fiasco

Know you gotta sip that Remy to this one, Lupe (yeah)

Had to get Blue on this track, you feel me?

Uhh, holla at 'em, whoa!

That's all I appreciate right there man

I live for this shit, you know what I mean?

Uhh, talk to 'em

[Chorus: Lupe Fiasco]

Yeah, uhh, f-f-filet mignon with my food stamps (mm)

Car cosigned by my momma (Momma)

Medical card from Obama ('bama)

Background check for a chopper (chopper)

Filet mignon with my food stamps (mm)

Car cosigned by my momma (Momma)

Medical card from Obama ('bama)

Background check for a chopper (rrah)

[Post-Chorus: Lupe Fiasco]

Background check for a chopper (rrah)

Background check for a chopper (rrah)

Filet mignon with my food stamps (mm)

Background check for a chopper (rrah)

Medical card from Obama ('bama)

Background check for a chopper (chopper)

Background check for a chopper (chopper)

Background check for a chopper (chopper)

[Verse 1: Billy Blue]

I got my chopper full and my black tee, slide

My baby momma done fucked up on her food stamps

That’s three months to re-certify

I’m ridin', niggas be watching, they don’t want these problems

When them bills due, niggas get ready 'cause no bullshit, I'm plottin'

I’m a government baby, let me get my cheese, let me get my cheese

Got a seven-trey in my momma yard, sittin' on D's

I’m 'bout this fee, I’m 'bout this fee, just know what’s free

You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, so don’t critique

Look at me nigga, just a young hood nigga, tryna get this cake

I don’t need to be givin’ out how school gon’ educate

Filet mignon for my food stamps, I know momma credit quite good

So I’m out here with this dope money, got a big body in my hood

Nigga you see it, better believe it, this what I’m 'bout

Got a trap house that be boomin', nigga, fiends in and out

Cut the check, anyway it come, nigga, Section 8

See we straight, see this money I make, this block can stay, ha

[Verse 2: Buk]

Yeah bitch, filet mignon with my food stamps

Would tell you I don’t but it won't be the truth

Let me hit you back on my government phone

Still a hood nigga, whatcha want me to do?

We get a blunt and a joint out a sawbuck of loud

Where I’m from we be actually hoopin’ in Jordans

Five dollar white t-shirts and them loose cigarettes

Ain’t nobody finna do shit important

People really don’t give no fuck about nothing

Although they may smile and be cordial

Dealin’ around with the wrong damn crowd

Then bring a frown to my friend, I'm in an alley, we warned you

Background check for the chopper

The barrel breathin' back down the neck of imposters

The murder rate ain’t back down yet

Cause they ain't wrote that down yet to the nigga that was tryna say he saw somethin’

Some people, listen

You could be predisposed or be preconditioned

Or speak with the preacher, been preaching, be the person

To put some process in your progress or be the prevention

I just live my life and I don’t stop grindin' until God tell me to

I get money, I ain’t gotta sell my soul, ho, who the hell is you?

They say my kind ain’t welcome everywhere, well I can deal with that

But those who pop they shit get the shit popped outta them

It's still a fact

So mind your business and stay the fuck outta mine

You’ll solve you'll find that this is

Best for everyone involved, all in all, the Lord my witness

[Chorus: Lupe Fiasco]

Yeah, uhh, f-f-filet mignon with my food stamps (mm)

Car cosigned by my momma (Momma)

Medical card from Obama ('bama)

Background check for a chopper (chopper)

Filet mignon with my food stamps (mm)

Car cosigned by my momma (Momma)

Medical card from Obama ('bama)

Background check for a chopper (rrah)

[Verse 3: Trouble]

Permit, don’t need permission from a doctor

I been smokin’ since a pre-teen toddler

I been servin’ since a jit, tryna dodge all the obstacles

My teachers all told me that were probable

Probable cause, no cracker never really had it

I was just a nigga in a high price whip

Yeah, I’m just a nigga with an education brought up in the ghetto

Where you better have extension on the clip

Well beef comes around in the town

More often than these bitches' emotions

I got a yopper, five dollars, off the streets (yeah I'm totin')

For protection more than anything though (you gon' test my devotion)

My first amendment right, they violate it anytime we outspoken

Chicago violence boostin’ up but we just focusin’

On other environments cause the country taking notice

More fiends are risin', molly the new dope

And I apologize cause it was something I was promotin’

Chopper in my bitch name in case I light somebody up

You just tell them it was stolen

Rich gunplay, shit that’s all they see, that’s all they know

Without it kinda hopeless

Said this in ’09 and still no medicare for grandma

I done said all their names and niggas still ain't want no anna

Lu probably tell me, "Trouble, you gotta put the mac down

Felonies all in your background"

Said this in ’09 and still no medicare for grandma

I done said all their names and niggas still ain't want no anna

Lu probably tell me, "Trouble, you gotta put the mac down

Felonies all in your background"

[Verse 4: Trae tha Truth]

I used to run up in your crib with shit that go blocka

Nigga tryna brick my squad like I’m Waka

I don’t wanna see no chain I can’t rock-a

Heard 'em tell me life is a bitch, can’t stop her

Even if I could, I tell 'em I wouldn’t knock her

'Til I get that Section 8 and then swap her

Baby momma tax return, new dropper

I might wanna go silk that bitch like I’m Shocker

All of my whips wetter than a water house

Food stamps getting flipped, what that water cost?

Yeah I’m actin like a nigga that ain’t never had shit

Filet mignon, porterhouse

My little brother on his medical shit from that block street

Nigga healthcare insured by that guap

Doorways ain't hiding me, no stop

Jackers playin’ open season with they yop

Shit I probably be the same, I find drama

Law's out lookin’ for me like Osama

I don’t wanna do no bid, Your Honor

Still waitin’ on my one phone call from Obama

Tell ‘em I need the chopper, they tellin’ me I'm a felon

I'm tellin' 'em they got it wrong, I beat the case in '9-7

And I'm well acquainted with hell but I’m tryna make it to heaven

But they don’t want me to make it, that’s why the niggas be tellin'

If I don’t get the chopper, I’ma probably run up inside

They better gimme a answer, I’m tryna be cool

If I don’t get it then everybody gon’ fear it

Every week I’m finna make ‘em repeat it like they in school

Bad news, everybody open up somethin’

You can move all you want just not sudden

It ain’t no thinkin' I was playin', I am not frontin'

The mentality of a goon, I am not stuntin'

[Chorus: Lupe Fiasco]

Yeah, uhh, f-f-filet mignon with my food stamps (mm)

Car cosigned by my momma (Momma)

Medical card from Obama ('bama)

Background check for a chopper (chopper)

Filet mignon with my food stamps (mm)

Car cosigned by my momma (Momma)

Medical card from Obama ('bama)

Background check for a chopper (rrah)

[Verse 5: Fam-Lay]

Storm is gone now it’s all clear

The road was long but we all here

Now go and tell, I don’t care

2014 is our year

Big shout out to the whole streets

This goes out to all that knows me

All y’all pussy niggas, hold these

Y’all play tough guys but call the police

Look I don’t care, I don’t share

I keep me a bad bitch with long hair

I send them choppers around there

When I’m somewhere sittin’ in a lounge chair

Overseas, blowin’ tree

Blowin’ green, throwin’ B's

Livin’ like life is supposed to be

And if you wanna see it all, nigga roll with me

To the top, couldn’t stop

Had a major deal but it wouldn’t pop

Niggas hated on me but I wouldn’t stop

And now life sweeter than a puddin’ pop

Think you so slick? Come and get me dawg

None of y’all niggas fuckin' with me dawg

Some of y’all niggas comin' with me dawg

None of y’all niggas' boots fit me dawg

You thinkin' back-a-wards y'all

You need to think tactical dawg

We laughin’ at y’all

While you thinking me and Lu radical, naw

You seein' this shit that keep goin' on

Then pick a different zone for your mobile homes

Storing fingerprints on your mobile phone

When you sippin' that shit they keep pourin' on

[Verse 6: Glasses Malone]

I’m bout that, I’m bout that, that Bentley out in that driveway

Cost more than my house did, fuck land, I’m fly today

First class if I fly, credit card ain’t mine

Don’t know how I’m gettin’ back but in luxury I arrive (turn up)

IPhone in my baby name, long way from that chirp

Stripper pole in my bedroom, but I’ma kill my daughter if she twerk

I’ma kill my daughter if she twerk, Miley Cyrus on that bullshit

But a real nigga can’t judge, that for Billy Ray to have to deal with

Record deal, fuck college, missed out but no Pyrex

My Harley got low mileage (and this white carpet in my project)

Thirty guns in my section, none of the homies got aim

My side bitch said she pregnant, but I ain’t claimin’ shit but the game

I ain’t claimin’ shit but the game, I ain’t claimin’ shit but the game

And this one is mine, I don’t trust his momma so he don’t got my name

Cheap rims on  my ride, mirrors loose as my beat pound

I ain’t addicted to shit, but weed man on my speed dial

[Chorus: Lupe Fiasco]

Yeah, uhh, f-f-filet mignon with my food stamps (mm)

Car cosigned by my momma (Momma)

Medical card from Obama ('bama)

Background check for a chopper (chopper)

Filet mignon with my food stamps (mm)

Car cosigned by my momma (Momma)

Medical card from Obama ('bama)

Background check for a chopper (rrah)

[Verse 7: Lupe Fiasco]

Uh-huh, my nigga, what we doing?

Ayy, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop

AR-15 with collapsible stock

Picatinny rail with a three-point harness

With 150 round magazine and a dot

Ayy, FMJ’s by the box, nigga

Got the same setup as the SWATs, nigga

Shouldn’t find that surprising

Cause I bought the motherfucker from a cop

Ayy, seen a lot of brown money as a shorty

Welfare baby can’t afford me

Healthcare there, I ain’t worried

Healthcare there, I ain’t worried

Ayy, excuse me as I repeat myself

Work twice as hard to complete myself

My opposition is not pretending

When I work twice as hard to defeat myself

Fuck being a hip-hop purist

When I'm  spendin’ 50 thousand on Securus

Embrace the contradiction, you’ll feel us

RIP to the homies but long live the killas

It’s why I look at God kinda odd

Cause these are the cards that he deal us

Ramen can’t fill us, Medicaid can’t heal us

And the mommas can’t stop us and these choppers might kill us

Look these wild niggas in they eyes

In the video it's some niggas that done died

Looked the ghosts in the face and I cried

No Wu-Tang, just Lu gang when I ride

With an L up

Sayin' "Free the guys" like I'm Durk (them hittas!)

With a clean record but I’m cursed

To make a half a million off a verse

Nigga, chop

[Outro]

Kick, push, kick, push it, push it, kick, chyeah

Get it, chyeah, push, kick, push it, push it, kick, chyeah

Get it, chyeah, push, kick, push it, push it, kick, chyeah

Get it, chyeah, push, kick, push it, push it, kick, chyeah