BOOL

[Intro: Trippie Redd] TraphouseRyan You ain't bool, uh You ain't bool, uh You ain't bool, uh Yeah TraphouseRyan tight as shit, my nigga [Chorus: Trippie Redd] Hold up, ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh (Yeah) (You can't, you can't, you can't bool, you can't, you can't bool) Ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh (Yeah) (You can't bool, you can't bool, you ain't bool, you ain't bool) Hold up, you can't bool with us, no-oh (You can't bool with, you ain't, you ain't bool, you ain't, you ain't) Uh, uh, you can't bool with us, no-oh (You can't bool, you can't, you can't) [Verse 1: Mozzy] Oil in the Phantom, double digits in the blammer Blickys over jammers, bitch I do that shit on camera Cookie package when I'm landin', in Atlanta smokin' good On the hood I came from nothin', niggas blew up off a jugg All my uncle 'n 'em the plug, used to bag up fifty dubs I'm addicted to these drugs, body itchin' off the mud I'm outchere tweakin' with my thugs, niggas kill you over crumbs Grab the cherry handkerchief, my jit fillin' up a drum Fuck you talkin' 'bout it, Mozzy get it poppin' in these slums Popular with these pistols, shottas pop you up for nothin' Nookie hundreds I'm just thumbin', multiplyin' blue bundles Nigga promise not to fumble, get money, remain humble [Chorus: Trippie Redd] Hold up, ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh (Yeah) (You can't, you can't, you can't bool, you can't, you can't bool) Ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh (Yeah) (You can't bool, you can't bool, you ain't bool, you ain't bool) Hold up, you can't bool with us, no-oh (You can't bool with, you ain't, you ain't bool, you ain't, you ain't) Uh, uh, you can't bool with us, no-oh (You can't bool, you can't, you can't) [Verse 2: Chris King] I be fuckin' up the highway, I been grindin' for some months I be rollin' blunts and poppin' pills 'cause I do what I want And I know your bitch been on my line but I will not confront And she know that I been gettin' all of my shit from the jump Ayy-oh-ayy-oh, tell you what the hood like baby Make sure you roll my Backwoods tight baby I be sippin' on the lean, act good now ready Smokin' on the dope, that ayy-oh-ayy-oh Hopin' that a bitch don't get out of pocket Before a young nigga have to go and call up Rocket He tell me mash on it, get to pimpin' and poppin' And fuckin' up the penthouse, we was runnin' the lobby instead All these niggas runnin' mad at your bread Guillotine with these rapper's ass, off with they head Everybody wanna win but everybody act scared Don't be hittin' up my line, do you fuck with the feds? I be sippin' on drink 'til I flatline, fishscale, the Benz back tied These old rappers sound mad tired, her pussy wet, it get baptized, whoa [Chorus: Trippie Redd & Chris King] Hold up, ayy (Snotty), you can't bool with us, no-oh (Yeah) (You can't, you can't, you can't bool, you can't, you can't bool) Ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh (Yeah) (You can't bool, you can't bool, you ain't bool, you ain't bool) Hold up, you can't bool with us, no-oh (You can't bool with, you ain't, you ain't bool, you ain't, you ain't) Uh, uh, you can't bool with us, no-oh (You can't bool, you can't, you can't) [Verse 3: YG] You can't bool with us, you ain't bool enough You ain't movin' nothin', you ain't shootin' nothin' You ain't toolied up Bitch I'm coogied up, my bitch bougie as fuck, fuck She only doin' Uber Vista, XL Uber truck (Yeah) JP fitted, be havin' Bar Town to Lenox My video shoots be like Piru conventions Can't bool, ain't no convincin', you don't know 'bout Missy's Kitchen Niggas' fingers wasn't twisted, niggas' pistols wasn't whistlin' Never dough, you wasn't whippin', you was scared, you kept bitchin' But now you want to bool to look bool, nigga, you trippin' They see the diamonds glistin', they know we fuckin' bitches They know we got the juice, whatever we say niggas gon' listen (Yeah) T's, P's, and B's, oh my, come clean, we slidin' on God Twenty on his head, nigga, why not? I'm the nigga with the bag on 400 block T's, P's, and B's, oh my, come clean, we slidin' on God Twenty on his head, nigga, why not? I'm the nigga with the bag on 400 block [Chorus: Trippie Redd & Chris King] Hold up, ayy (Snotty), you can't bool with us, no-oh (Yeah) (You can't, you can't, you can't bool, you can't, you can't bool) Ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh (Yeah) (You can't bool, you can't bool, you ain't bool, you ain't bool) Hold up, you can't bool with us, no-oh (You can't bool with, you ain't, you ain't bool, you ain't, you ain't) Uh, uh, you can't bool with us, no-oh (You can't bool, you can't, you can't)