lirik lagu trap shit – gucci mane
[intro: gucci mane]
(zaytoven)
trap sh*t
trap sh*t (huh)
trap sh*t
trap sh*t
[verse 1: gucci mane]
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 n0body, she goin’, she f*ck 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, thеse hood b*tches, they lovе 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 f*ck 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
[chorus: lil baby]
everything i rap ’bout official, i’m from the streets, b*tch (street)
hundred thousand all my pockets, this ain’t no sweet l!ck (sweet)
‘nother 60k on my wrist, this a patek, b*tch (this a patek, b*tch)
all my hoes got fat asses, they all on fleek, b*tch (they all on fleek, b*tch)
all my b*tches wearin’ designer, i don’t want no cheap b*tch (i don’t want no cheap b*tch)
draco with me everywhere i go, on the front seat, b*tch (on the front seat, b*tch)
trap sh*t, n*ggas know i’m ’bout it (wow)
trap sh*t, n*ggas know i’m ’bout it (yeah)
[verse 2: lil baby]
fifty racks cash on me, that’s just today’s profit (today’s profit)
4 pockets full, lil’ b*tch, i ain’t got no d*mn wallet (i ain’t got no wallet)
f*ck around and got in the game, i got the streets poppin’ (i got ’em poppin’)
p*ssy n*ggas tellin’ on me, i know the feds watchin’ (i know they watchin’)
how the h*ll 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 d*mn extras
flexin’ on these n*ggas on purpose, check out this d*mn necklace
dropped eighty racks on a charger, next day, i d*mn wrecked it (skrrt)
pull up with them sticks like the army, they say we young veterans
they won’t pull up in them apartments, they say we too treacherous
[chorus: lil baby]
everything i rap ’bout official, i’m from the streets, b*tch (street)
hundred thousand all my pockets, this ain’t no sweet l!ck (sweet)
‘nother 60k on my wrist, this a patek, b*tch (this a patek, b*tch)
all my hoes got fat asses, they all on fleek, b*tch (they all on fleek, b*tch)
all my b*tches wearin’ designer, i don’t want no cheap b*tch (i don’t want no cheap b*tch)
draco with me everywhere i go, on the front seat, b*tch (on the front seat, b*tch)
trap sh*t, n*ggas know i’m ’bout it (wow)
trap sh*t, n*ggas know i’m ’bout it (yeah)
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