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pyrex - joey trap lyrics

[intro]
(we love you, pyrex)
n*gga

[verse 1]
yo’ b*tch gon’ do what i say, like i’m simon
you can tell by the rollie i’m on perfect timin’
when i hop in the foreign, it look like it’s flyin’
i can hear your heartbeat and i know that you lyin’
i’ma whip out the powder, the white nose, pyrex
the shoes on my whip, forgiatos, five racks
i just put on a patek, you put on a timex, n*gga
you talkin’ high, you get hit with the burner
i get to the money so f*ck what you heard
if a n*gga want drama, a n*gga get murdered

[chorus]
ayy, let’s go
real rich n*gga, i got me a bag, n*gga
f*ck what you talkin’, we get you a flag
pricе on his head and his body get dragged
i bе walkin’ with .30’s, don’t run out of mags
how the f*ck did we get all these riches from rags?
real trap sh*t, b*tch, i do what you don’t
got ahold on my choppa, be singin’ them notes
i’m the hood president and i don’t need no votes
all these diamonds so cold we gon’ need us some coats
[verse 2]
pull out the pounds of the porcelain
paper get stacked ’til it reaches the ceiling
i still talkin’ ’bout racks and i need me a milly
if i quit all the rappin’, it’s back to the dealin’
i’ll just be mindin’ my business
these n*ggas is out here plottin’ and mad
think ’bout the sh*t that, you n*ggas are sad
n*gga, hop out your feelings and run up a bag
ayy, n*gga you broke and you act like you stuntin’
we stay with the .30, you know how we comin’
we was kickin’ the fiends out the trap, like we puntin’
police is watchin’ so we had to slow down
but i know the opps plottin’ so we gettin’ more rounds
and we always be workin’, my n*ggas don’t go lounge
it was just a lil’ thot, no, you can’t have my baby
yes, i’m a lion, you can’t ever tame me
came with a glock, you not finna taze me
we goin’ up like we came from the 80’s
trap house on fire, the fiends goin’ crazy, woah
you just a fake, boy, you act what you isn’t
you k!ll all the fake, i’ma sign the petition
it’s been n.m.o.b., i need money, no b*tches
if i stop all this rappin’, go back to the kitchen
ayy, time, put my wrist in
ayy, mom, i’m on big sh*t
got time, i need business
[chorus]
ayy, let’s go
real rich n*gga, i got me a bag, n*gga
f*ck what you talkin’, we get you a flag
price on his head and his body get dragged
i be walkin’ with .30’s, don’t run out of mags
how the f*ck did we get all these riches from rags?
real trap sh*t, b*tch, i do what you don’t
gotta hold on my choppa, be singin’ them notes
i’m the hood president and i don’t need no votes
all these diamonds so cold we gon’ need us some coats

- joey trap lyrics

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