NBA Youngboy – Choppa On My Shoulda (Instrumental) (Prod. By Mercy Beatz, DrellOnTheTrack, ​lvl35dav, Fasbeats & Khris James)

[Refrain]
Salute me when you see me nigga, ’cause I’m a soldier
You ain’t recognize, you ain’t notice how I tote that choppa on my shoulder?
I’m a G and I’ma run this shit like a G, know he supposed to
So cutthroat, you would think that they brought Slim back from Magnolia
[Verse 1]
I’m a convicted felon bearin’ illegal guns without no holster
I’ma catch you, feelin’ badly, ain’t even wanna slump you over
I got a gangster bitch, I’m a gangster nigga
She know how to hold me
I’ll stick the dice game that my friend attend
Then tell ‘еm one of them niggas owes mе
Know this ho just tryna play me close ’cause I know this is not no for showly
Tryna get me at a pinpoint, you was gonna let ’em rollercoast me
I ain’t far from ’round, I brought my boy straight out the Nola
I got brown drippin’ from my nose, don’t think once ‘fore to bash me
You don’t know me, bitch (Yeah)

[Chorus]
This for them gangsters and them bangers locked down in the feds
This for them fast, down to get dangerous, bust that nigga head
Ooh, this for old school who’ll whoop one of you dumb niggas for thinkin’ that you— (Yeah)

[Verse 2]
Look, I got my Llama, nigga
I want all the problems (Woah, woah)
Tell me lil’ brother, “Keep them choppers from up out my mama house”
Bitch, tell ya mammy watch her mouth
I make my cousin walk her down
That’s corn, and [?] and sweet pea, and I got some straight up out the South
Be on gangster shit, from my family tree just lookin’ down
This for my Uncle Eddie, real stick-up artist, ain’t make it home
I don’t want that bitch, she salt me down
Strung out on dope, ho, leave me ‘lone
I’m fresh as fuck, that ain’t enough, she still bought them niggas songs
That’s why my baby still show love, dirty bitch I held you down
I catch your BD at the club and I might knock his ass down
Bitch, I’m a thug, now move yo’ cappin’ ass around
Got plenty rounds, I’m in this bitch with all my rounds, yeah

[Chorus]
This for them gangsters and them bangers locked down in the feds
This for them fast, down to get dangerous, bust that nigga head
Ooh, this for old school who’ll whoop one of you dumb niggas for thinkin’ that you— (Yeah)

[Verse 3]
You best call the feds
Ain’t no sense to hold your head
These bullets rippin’ through yo’ hand
And we pull off once you dead
I’m with them murder babies, they on it crazy
They know that I’m paid
I’m talkin’ concentrated, I’m medicated
So, everything be red
I let them shooters get ’em, they too official
I’ll make sure that they fed
You keep that secret, so you takin’ care your ass, I respect that
Bitch, we’ll tell ’em move you from yo’ dads with yo’ dog ass
Tell that pussy bitch, “Don’t run with 10,” get on y’all ass

[Refrain]
Salute me when you see me nigga, ’cause I’m a soldier
You ain’t recognize, you ain’t notice how I tote that choppa on my shoulder?
I’m a G and I’ma run this shit like a G, know he supposed to
So cutthroat, you would think that they brought Slim back from Magnolia