[Intro]
Traphouse mob
[Verse 1: Kwengface]
No hook
Tell a man, yo, what's good
Hit up the strip in my Tino's
Did drills in my Adidas boogs
Don'look
We got all of the opps dem shook
Smash that light by night
So you know more food got cooked
Now why the opps dem stressed
Cah none of us man been stretched
Whip that skeng though, a man endo
That is a quick AM
And a word to Snoop
Who the fuck you cheffed?
Yo, Daqwan got bored in his arm real quick cah the boy tried to cover his neck
Ben got cheffed, dad got cheffed
And all now none of them step
How many times have we lurked with shanks in hands tryna leave a man red
I might put this cutie in Gucci if she holds this skeng (come 'ere)
Chris brownin' with a fat back, come to the zones and bring your friends
I'm in the next space that's kway that's prof
I'm with a peng ting in my hotel room and the peng ting givin' me top
No Van Gogh, man paint man's top
I'm in Pecks moving low from cops
Nah I can't flip this flop, no
I swear that the grind don't stop
[Verse 2: PS]
The opps dem know and the thots dem know
I just shout Chin for a ball, we all kick ball
You know we ain't pro
I still gotta shout Face for them boots
Bruce back out the pumps on volts
D9 or S9 with Zone, hitters, ridin' come let's go
On the table shanks or poles
I'm down at the door, a bunch of crow
Hotel I'm on floor 30
Who else wan' be hero
I am a villain, I ain't no Joker (no way)
Life gamble, casino
Fix up their face I'll back out my poker
Or put coins in a machine yo
Dem man are chiefs, I call them Sosa (eergh)
Switch it, I watch a paigon vid, like, I got that paigon chinged
Oh shit, bruce got the same one too, zoo
We do outrageous things
No 9 to 5 ting, I ain't on mining
So I don't know what my paigons is
You done run from the great, grey whip
You would've though they was slaves and shit
Shit, I got a snap from ML, but all we talk is wins
Hospital bed I was sore and shit
After that all I could talk was sins
How many man have I bored and shit
I swear to God, man, I've bored as shit
How many man have I bored and shit
I swear to God, man, I've bored as shit
[Verse 3: Trizzac]
(Trizzla)
Bare times I've run him down
I don't know how he don't have athlete's feet
They don't wanna meet and greet, but, on socials wanna give cheek
Sawn off and mask, tryna break man's heart
Like his girlfriend goes and cheats
On the ride let me take my seat
Dots come old like Bas and Pete
15 inch in jackets
I done did this, I don't need no practice
K2 turned him packets
Two man up we don't need no batches
4-4-2 that's tactics
See all the chest shot, Lord that's classic
Dot dots same size as a blanket
They know gang for rolling with gadgets
I done put blades through fleshes
And I done see legs do stretchers
I just had to bad up one cat
'Cause I told her I don't send text's
Samurai sword my fetish
One shot make that opp boy perish
Still servin' no tennis, menace
Dem man Cedars like lettuce
I ain't ridin' with no satnav
But you'll get touched from my GPS
Splash man down with no regrets
Then, leave him all depressed
Duck-duck-goose, take man's food
There's no time to go digest
Look far but I had to redress
Thought we was friends, ching his chest (Judas)
[Outro]
Scratchmixedit
