作曲 : James Baker/Nathaniel Phillips

作词 : James Baker/Nathaniel Phillips

Oh my ******* God

Kushy got a retainer, haha

(Damn Trap, that s**t slappin')

Hah, ayy (Word)

I get more ass than a lawn chair

I like a ***** with some long hair (Hair)

She shakin’ that ass and throwin' it fast (Throw it)

That makin' me wanna go bone her (I wanna ****)

Sneak dissin’, lil' boy, watch your tone there (Huh?)

I'm not givin' you s**t, I'm no loaner (That's on mama)

If you do what I do, you a clone there (Word)

Sat down with a nine, young ***** did some long prayer

Ride around your block with a corner

I might just serve me a corner (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

He a barber, that boy used to comb hair (Huh?)

I might walk through your hood just to roam there (Huh? Huh?)

If you reach in that glove department, trap phone there

Give it to 'em like a donor (Donor)

Why beef 'bout a ***** if I really don’t want her?

I check them hoes off the list like Nike Air (Woah)

**** her in your house and spend the night there

You caught me, I know you don’t like that s**t right there

You fought me, that's how you got that lil’ black eye there (Huh?)

You diss them Crips or the Nation, you die there (Yeah)

Send your location, I fly there (Fly there)

Eight-legged freak, send her back in my Spyder (Spyder)

Four hoes on me, I'm the s**t like a diaper (Diaper)

I'm comin' off the dome like a cypher (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Two-tone (Two-tone)

Audemar my wrist, I got designer on my ’fit ('Fit)

No collision, but *****, we be callin' hits (Rrah)

In the Expedition, we got 'bout 37 sticks (Doon, doon, doon)

Heard your ex went missin', I got her ******' on the clique

No supervision, radar in this ***** (*****)

No record label, got my A&R in this ***** (Rrah, rrah, rrah)

Shoot a ***** in December, that's a cold hit (Cold hit)

All that sneak dissin' got your folks hit (Folks hit)

Caught a body, same gun, hit the show with it (Yeah)

Do whatever for the money, baby, go get it (Woo)

Thousand dollars for a front row ticket (Yes)

It's all fun until your dough come missing

Call my ******, do a door-door kickin' (Kickin')

Say you a killer, get your mojo missin' (Missin')

Say you a P, better slow your pimpin' (Pimpin')

*****, I be solo Crippin' (Crip, crip)

*****, better slow your pimpin'

'Fore your ******' folks come missin'

Say you killer but your mojo missin'

*****, you ain't gettin' no money

Take a notepad, *****, you came with that ***** (Oh)

I'll tell you 'bout these slow ass ******

Say they a shooter but they gun ain't never on safety

Nah, we ain't even gon' play

Nah, we just **** 'em on the pavement

Nah, ******' your ***** on the pavement

Nah, man

S**t is litty in the city, *****

*****, **** comin' out in this

Boy, why you put that s**t in here, boy?

Trapomatics made another one

Why did you do that? Stupid