Trap House

[Verse]

Ooh! Yeah

Lil Tunechi got it jumpin' like Jordan

These pussy ass niggas can't guard me

These rookie ass niggas still crawlin'

These lookin' ass niggas eyeballin'

These hookin' ass bitches eyeballin'

But I got a bad bitch at home cooking dinner

Hi honey, I'm home, I'm starvin'

These crooked ass cops still winnin'

Black man family still mournin'

Black President ain't do nothin'

We need a real nigga up in that office

Got the White House jumpin' like Jordan

Got the crack house jumpin' like Jordan

I want my new house bigger than Jordan's

With a backyard bigger than a forest

Like "ooh" bedroom jumpin' like Jordan

Hoes at the door and they arguin'

This dick a superstar, they want stardom

My life like Bailey and Barnum's

These bitches ain't got no manners

These niggas ain't got no standards

My bitch ain't got no love handles

Boy, I'm clippin' that toe on that camel

I got bitches that'll kill for me – Charles Manson

Suck this thuggish ruggish bone, swallow that bone marrow

Ooh, chopper sittin' on my lap like the mall Santa

Nigga, shoot you all in your gallbladder

Your pallbearers need pallbearers

I'm mixing weed like gumbo

I knock your head off – Fumble

Homeboys be cutthroat

That shit got me with a lump throat

But Tunechi bigger than Elvis Presley

Young Money was my best investment

Going harder than my predecessor

I don't break records, I sets the records

Lil Tunechi coming back like Kobe

Niggas stab me in the back, I owe 'em

Got a house in the hills

Now a nigga gotta deal

With mountain lions and coyotes

Semi, I keep that semi

And friendly, I can't be friendly

Freckles, them bullet holes look like freckles

You look like Wendy's

House in the hills jumpin' like Jordan

I can't swim but I'm throwing pool parties

I got a bitch over there, and a bitch over there

A young nigga starting to feel cornered

My LA house jumpin' like Jordan

My Miami house jumpin' like Jordan

Can't forget about my house in New Orleans

So sorry for the wait, I'm sorry

I want my new bitch titties enormous

With a backyard and a pretty garden

With a pussy more pink than a orchid

Young nigga gonna treat it like a florist

I got my side bitch feeling important

I got my main bitch feeling immortal

I got my ex bitch feeling insulted

Cause wifey get money like Kimora

I got a fine bitch feeling exhausted

Cause I'mma put this dick on her 'til tomorrow

I'mma pull up on a bitch in a Gallardo

Then I'mma take the top off like a barber

I go down and kiss her Pearl Harbor

She's so down with this New World Order

Fuck the shit out her in a sauna

Sweat her hair out, she look like Al Sharpton

Got a goon named Fernando

At the front door your condo

Knock-knock, who's there?

He don't care, he's psycho

Bad bitch with a nice throat

She ice cold and she like hoes

Ooh, she just my type

These other hoes just typos

Young nigga coming back like Jordan

So sorry for the wait, I'm sorry

Yeah, a nigga had to go back to the stash

But a nigga 'stache like James Harden

Young nigga drank lean like water

Young nigga smoke weed like Marley

Young nigga on the Moon like Warren

Young nigga on this shit like Charmin

Ooh, my bitch got a rack, Dolly Parton

Fuck her all night long to some Marvin

Fall asleep in the pussy, good lordy

Woke up in a new Bugatti, good mornin'

Young nigga got guns, good luck

Nina Ross say "Me so horny"

Lil Tunechi, at the top it's so lonely

Got fat pockets, never bony

I'm with a model bitch, she so bony

I done shook shit up, it's so foamy

I just cooked this up, it's still hot

You could still smell the kitchen on me

Nigga I'll have your homies

Singing "Damn I miss my homie"

I got a mountain of weed

I got a mountain of cash

I got mountains like Wyoming

I got a bad bitch and she foreign

She always mad with me, I'm sorry

She say "Damn why you can’t call me?"

"Cause they be taxin' for that roaming"

She a tan bitch, she orange

I can’t stand a snitchin' informant

Niggas cooked crack on a Foreman

While y'all boys was still sparrin', uhh

This that Sorry 4 the Wait 2

Tell the dead homies you pray to

You on your way too

That the truth is hard to swallow

You got fake juice

Even Slick Rick the ruler know I break rules, ooh

Got the gas out shootin' like Jordan

I'll put your homeboy face on a T-shirt

And put your own face on a milk carton

Busy, I’ve been so busy

Ain’t even got time for quickies

That’s why my bitch been so bitchy

I’m out here tryin' to get me

I’m coming back out jumpin' like Jordan

I’m so sorry for the wait, I’m tardy

I wrote a letter to my competition

It started off with: Dearly Departed

Hippie, I be so trippy

Give her pussy a hicky

I hope she ain’t strictly dickly

So we can menage to Nicki, ooh