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Yeah, uh Yeah, yeah Ayy Trappin' ain't dead, these niggas just scared (Yeah) They turn, they run to the feds (God) She say, "Open your eyes", I'm like, lil' bitch, I'm high Can't you tell that I'm full of them meds? (On God) We are down on the scoreboard, you gotta forfeit All of yo' niggas is dead Come get your ho back, that pussy throwback Blow me up, hit me, I leave 'em on read (Blaow) I'll fuck on your bitch, I don't lay up I'm rollin' on X just to stay up (Ayy) Skinny bitch, but you see that my weight up Tryna fuck you right now, I won't wait up (On God) Bitch, I'm blowed, I been runnin' that cake up (Uh-huh) Might speak it to 'em, I don't say much Bitch, I'm MVP still, I don't play much Titties on the Glock, thesе are no A-cups (Uh-huh), woah They know ain't no ho in my blood My dad ain't yo' uncle, so I ain't yo' cuz Ayy, you know thе old me, so don't approach me Nigga, this ain't what it was They mad that I done run my sack up Racks up, earned it, this shit out the mud Letras de cancionesCross me and I gotta get payback No you can't pay that, I want it in blood (On God) Free Hank 'til my brother come home My fellas stay grippin' that chrome, uh Bitches sellin' their cat, I sell songs Done ran up that sack on my phone I cannot make this shit up Boy, yo' ass limp, can't get up Do this shit for my mama, can't give up Niggas fake, crop their ass out the picture (Ayy, ayy) I be full of that juice like a pitcher (Uh) You a opp now, it ain't nothin with ya (Nuh-uh, ayy) Yeah, it's all from the gang so we get up (Look) Ain't no competition, so just give up Yo' lil' girlfriend go down and she eat up Bad lil' bitch with a magazine, no pages (Yeah, yeah) You lil' niggas be broke, makin' no wages Bitch, go talk to God if you need savin' (Ayy, big brr) Tote the chop with the box, got cable Tried to run up, now he disabled (Can't walk) Drop A Body ENT my label (Co-sign) If I ain't do it myself, I paid him (On God) Every gun got a drum and a laser (And a scope) Yo' shooter ain't shit, just trade 'em (Gotta go) He got hit up close, cremate 'em (Brr) Nigga won't tote Drac' 'til I made him (Brr, brr, on God), yeah, yeah FN on the stove when I cook up (I cook up) Hundred deep at the show when they book up (Every time I look up) Gave him two to the chest, can't sit up (Brr) I told Chant, "Keep shootin', might get up" (Brr, brr) If you with me ain't no in the middle (No) DOA, couldn't get to the spitter (Can't see in the dark) FOA's want three, four killers (Brr) After this four, I'ma need a new liver (Let's go) Hit the club out of my body and ain't worry 'bout it 'cause I brought them killers in here I ain't with all of that talkin', as soon as you start it I bet I'ma finish it here Whole lotta water on me, diamonds dancin' like the Harlem Shake With a nigga tank on E, if they gas 'em we gon' off his face My shooter one call away, this shit get ruthless, goin' hard, no play We ballin' all the way and we ain't hoopin' Stand up nigga, I'm a lion like Lucious, stupid If you think I'm lovin' these groupies, use it If you say you packin' your toolie, losin' Nigga, that's somethin' I ain't doin' From Letras Mania