Testo Trap Shit - Gucci Mane feat. Lil Baby
Testo della canzone Trap Shit (Gucci Mane feat. Lil Baby), tratta dall'album Ice Daddy
(Zaytoven)
Trap shit
Trap shit (huh)
Trap shit
Trap shit
Sellin' Vin Diesel, strong Cookie, that Keisha
Gucci poppin' P's like Georgia just made it legal (wow)
Higher than an eagle, leanin' like Beanie Sigel (I'm leanin')
Flyer than a pilot, jean jacket by Diesel (phew)
All-gold rocket, the socket matchin' my Foamposite
You's a nobody, she goin', she fuck with everybody (go)
Lil' 'Crest boys in the hood, wanna see a dead body?
Four pockets stuffed and LaFlare, we bust at everybody
At Club Crucial, these hood bitches, they love Crucial (wow)
That's my young shooter, recruit him to send some slugs through you
We search 'em 'fore they come in the trap, might have a bug on 'em (huh?)
He's a walking dead man, don't know it, he got a dub on him (yeah)
Beat him with a bat, then fuck it, pour kerosene on him
Everybody searchin' for holmes, but we ain't seen homie
Chainsaw massacre, call 1017 on 'em
Make it look drug-related, man, pour some lean on him
Everything I rap 'bout official, I'm from the streets, bitch (street)
Hundred thousand out my pockets, this ain't no sweet lick (sweet)
'Nother 60K on my wrist, this a Patek, bitch (this a Patek, bitch)
All my hoes got fat asses, they all on fleek, bitch (they all on fleek, bitch)
All my bitches wearin' designer
I'on't want no cheap bitch (I'on't want no cheap bitch)
Draco with me everywhere I go, on the front seat, bitch (on the front seat, bitch)
Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (wow)
Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (yeah)
50 racks cash on me, that's just today's profit (today's profit)
Four pockets full, lil' bitch, I ain't got no damn wallet (I ain't got no wallet)
Fuck around and got in the game, I got the streets poppin' (I got 'em poppin')
Pussy niggas tellin' on me, I know the feds watchin' (I know they watchin')
How the hell he gettin' this money? I keep on buyin' watches
Jackboys thinkin' I'm sweet, I keep on buyin' choppers
Lock me up, I'm gettin' out tomorrow, I think I'm El Chapo
Bricks came 1017, I got some damn extras
Flexin' on these niggas on purpose, check out this damn necklace
Dropped 80 racks on a Charger, next day, I damn wrecked it (skrrt)
Pull up with them sticks like the army, they say we young veterans
They won't pull up in 'em apartments, they say we too treacherous
Everything I rap 'bout official, I'm from the streets, bitch (street)
Hundred thousand out my pockets, this ain't no sweet lick (sweet)
'Nother 60K on my wrist, this a Patek, bitch (this a Patek, bitch)
All my hoes got fat asses, they all on fleek, bitch (they all on fleek, bitch)
All my bitches wearin' designer
I'on't want no cheap bitch (I'on't want no cheap bitch)
Draco with me everywhere I go, on the front seat, bitch
Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (wow)
Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it
Credits
Writer(s): Carlos Phillips, Lee Stashenko, Dominique Jones
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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