Whoopty Doopty

[Intro]
(JAYLAP)

[Verse]
Got the game in my hand, no PSP
Dutch shootin' shit like CP3
Game got your bitch out the PSDs
Gang in this bitch with ARPs
Gang in this bitch, we turnin' up
Chop it down and burn it up
Choppin' it up with the burner on me
Dutch'll burn you down with the chopper first
I heard you bad, my flock is worse
I swear be cursed with bein' blessed
Lames call Big $weet to clean the mess
I'm makin' plays like Ron Artest
Ron just called, said, "Meet at 10"
Brand-new Glock, boy, guess the gen
You think shit sweet? Guess again
I revive your ass, get you stretched again
Hoes dodgin' you 'cause you a scrub
And callin' $weet for the midnight rub
Every time I hit the lodge, you would think I'm playin' Midnight Clubs
Smokin' super duper, on the E-way dodgin' super troopers
Chopper clean your shit up, call this bitch the fuckin' pooper scooper
Pass the rock off to Darell, but I ain't no fuckin' hooper
In the whip, we bumpin' Future, makin' plays, bust them maneuvers
$weet be goin' ha-ha-ha while lames be talkin' all that rah
Seven sixty deuce'll hit your ass and give you back to Jah
Hoobinga stock on the K, I picked it up like ooh-la-la
If you ain't talkin' 'bout no money, all I hear is blah-blah-blah
You ain't talkin' 'bout no money, all I hear is grunts and sounds
Tryna run off with my money, Dutch'll come and hunt you down
Dutch hittin' shit like Derek Jeter, we some steppers, y'all some tweeters
With my tweakers smokin' jeters, textin' back my plays in eaters
All my hoes some divas, all your bitches look like jeepers creepers
Carti frames on top my peeper got your bop on top my Peter
Tryna get his bitch back, but $weet be on that finders-keepers
Chopper on my lap, I call that bitch the "Motor City Sleeper"
Trap spot got a garden greeter, how you slidin' down in the beater?
Hide your ho before I meet her, you think you sweet, but, bitch, I'm sweeter
Irene just popped a 30, said she need thirty more
Every quarter that I serve weigh seven thirty-four
My clique the type to see the opps out and mop the fuckin' floor
My new 'fit clean as hell, my pop dirty as your drawers
Think you gettin' down on $weet 'til I up the fuckin' score
You can't hang around my team 'less you desensitized to gore
My fiends don't even like this shit, they be doin' dope like chores
My chop sound like the kid from Shrek, this bitch'll do the fuckin' roar (Do the roar)
Got the hammer tucked like Thor, $weet be livin' by the sword
Dutch'll pop you in the top and burn your body like a s'more
Unc'll always scrape the pot, my work's inauguratin' sports
My plug stay sippin' drank, and he's heavy on the pour