This is a song about "Chop"

Chop down your words,harvest you like reaper

She got mad i leaned over, i'm nursing her

My bitches bad, these niggas mad, i guess it's just what the fame brings

Chop off her noggin and her motherfucking clitoris

Let em play with her box, she give the greatest top

Not for a cop, hit the slot, pop and chop, i smoke alot

You food to me duck up in chop stix with a some chops

Rather than buy our songs, they busy cheering the stars

A bunch of fucking wolves and rats having niggers the size of shaq

Murder chop your bodies up, put it on a sack then put them on a stack

Chop you up in the basement like my name was patrick bateman

It's ironic cause i always hear you talking about one

Chop you up with my lyrics you fear it, i'm army strong

But every time i smoke, well, a nigga mind gone

And don't make vibrations stop

Now we chop the whole fucking block