Lupe Fiasco — Chopper

[Intro: 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) [Bridge: 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 and 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 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