Choppa - Bonus Track #1 lyrics

[Choppa] While you walking I'm running, while you shooting I'm chopping Got me confused with them dudes, but who is you to be knocking Now I be marching like a soldier, and my army right behind me On that Westbank is where a n***a, might find me f**ing with me boy, you gon get your ish-a I represent from the heights, all the way to the pitcher And I'm all about a dolla dolla, nobody hotta hotta I can pull a Prada model, t-shirt holla wobble wobble We in the club pop a bottle, at the bar Tell your girl stop tripping, she could holla at a star Hypnotic in the car, is all I need to get mean We could mix it with henny, and we turning it green Like one say, left to the right right, to the left left, to the right Let me see you bounce with me, East to the West North to the South, back to the house, come blow a ounce with me [Hook - 2x] All my soldiers with me (yeah) All my whodis with me (yeah) If you hustle hard for a n***a praying (yeah) My soldieretts with me (yeah) My independent women (yeah) Them hoes hatin' cause you looking good (hell yeah) [Choppa] Everybody throw your dranks up, soldiers throw your tanks up Hit the flo', wild out, everybody drink something Its your set, throw it up, show me where the f** you from What you drinking mix it with this, hit this weed and have some fun Girls got they bu*ts up, y'all know what's up We drinking this straight out the bottle, whodi put them cups up I'm from the home of the Queen, that they call Anna I come to represent New Orleans, Louisiana [Master P] The New No Limit guerillas, we gon ride to get scrilla I'm a soldier till I die, and real n***as gon feel us I put that heat on your a**, n***a play and get bagged Uptown, thugged out, t-shirts and du-rags On the block where you find me, my n***as right behind me Third Ward Calliope projects, we on the grind G My bottle slang chrome, n***a tats on arms We gon wild out till, C-Murder come home [Hook] [Curren$y] Pull up in a big truck, on a set of twenty three's Twenty G's cash, in the pocket to my P. Miller jeans Playa hatas mad, they wish they could rid of me I'm always on the radio, I'm always on the t.v. screens Now am I bout it huh, whodi I'm bout it bout it Hop out the limo, watch the women form a crowd around it I keep the burner with me, never on the streets without it I put you in the papers, let your family read about it I'm going hard in the streets, and I own my own crib You'll never see a landlord, round me T-R-U n***a, you could ask my dog C And my money hell-a-long, cause I just got a check from P Huh b**hes to Hot Spitter, you f** around if you want And watch how quick a n***a, send you to the hospital Stick this baretta to your braids, me and my soldiers Sticking together like Franky Beverly and me [Hook - 2x]