Da Docta ft. LME Steppa Lyrics

I don't care about your problems, bitch, you better call the docta

I've been stacking up the money and you know I got a lotta

Now you tryna fuck me over and I knew you been a problem

Now he beggin' for the Lord, bitch, you better fuckin' call him

Got them demon horns on the gun, bitch, you better not run

And if you try to run, let your soul meet the sun

I be on the jokin' shit, but I ain't never a pun

This shit just entertain me to me, and I just do it for fun

I said, call the doctor

Cause I been walkin' with a choppa and the bitch is finna blow

Cause I'm posted with the shottas

And if you step up on this turf, we'll hit you right back out the door

I been walkin' with my 50 on me, tryna blow a nigga

I got them killers in the back, they finger itchin' on the trigga

I got them fiends scratchin' on the neck they itchin' for a jigga

Pull out the Glock and bust it twice, he got hit up in his grissel

I want that nigga dome, bring it to me in the basket

All the funeral arrangements, now a closed casket

Why that nigga talkin' on the net like he with the static

Don't come to me on no bullshit, bitch, we clutchin' automatics

I want that nigga dead, dead, dead

I got a killers ridin' around, tryna bust your head, head, head

That nigga been a yeti, now you ridin' around scared, scared, scared

I blow this choppa in this bitch, take your face off

I'm like, cmere where you goin', you get chased down

I told my youngin' bend that corner with that drac now he gon' spray round

Betta hold your face down

My youngin' with that yappa, he like eight pounds

Probably ain't even dat' nigga

Brr got a call, where you at, nigga

Puss, I'm in that raq nigga

Come get hit up with that fully mag nigga

Swerve that pussy off the road, you shouldn't of been lookin' back nigga

Don't come question me, I got nothin' to do with that, nigga

I'm pickin' money off of hoes

My granddaddy taught me how to move a load

Manufacturing that raq n that's on River Road

That hoe gon' kiss n tell, she don't need a mistletoe, oh, I know

Got them demon horns on the gun, bitch, you better not run

And if you try to run, let your soul meet the sun

I be on the jokin' shit, but I ain't never a pun

This shit just entertain me to me, and I just do it for fun

I said, call the doctor

Cause I been walkin' with a choppa and the bitch is finna blow

Cause I'm posted with the shottas

And if you step up on this turf, we'll hit you right back out the door