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trap rapper - pros ap lyrics

[intro: pros ap]
(enrgy made this one)
island boys, b*tch (island boys)
we them youngest n*ggas winnin’, b*tch (ynw)
yeah, yeah (n*gga, it’s f*ck you)
pros

[verse 1: pros ap]
fifty ‘bows on the floor, b*tch, i’ll drive with no l’s (fifty of ’em)
you ain’t never weighed a thousand*eight grams with no scale (n*gga, no, you haven’t)
i’ll cancel out some p*ssy just to go and hit a sale (i swear to god)
out of town sellin’ work, they thought i left to sign a deal (haha)
h*ll naw, pros back trappin’, in that field active (i’m active)
i’m a young black n*gga servin’ all the rich crackers
fifty thousand all pink fifties, look like lil’ patrick (patrick)
n*gga, trappin’ ain’t dead, these n*ggas scared to be some trappers (nigas scared)
i been in this fiеld a week straight runnin’ to the pape’ (yeah, yеah)
you been on the ‘gram a week straight tryna bust your name (you a corn)
i ain’t tryna knock a n*gga hustle, get it any way
get off your ass and make a play, i can trap in any state (i can trap in any state, n*gga)

[chorus: pros ap]
i’m a trap rapper, gram slapper, trap*door slammer
i’m a bad*b*tch stabber, mr. hit her friend after (yeah)
i’m a dog, a b*tch playin’ me can never happen (a b*tch playin’ me can never happen, n*gga)
b*tch, i’m pros, a guy that get money, i ain’t your last n*gga (pros)
[verse 2: pros ap]
i get up and make the money
sh*t, my mama want a crib with a pool in south dakota (i gotta get it)
sh*t, i gotta get it in (i gotta grind)
every rack i make, i gotta hit the crib and stash it in
bro be trippin’, he woke up and said, “i’m ’bout to cash a benz” (cash another one)
dropped a pint on every drill, we’ll drive wherever (uh*huh)
my cousin f*ckin’ with the opps, well, they gon’ die together (he gon’ die with ’em)
ayy, speakin’ on lil ched gon’ make us spin tonight (spin tonight, n*gga)
stop playin’ like moo wasn’t slumped inside that whip on nada drive
sos caught a headshot, crashed out at dd safe (with his b*tch ass)
pm caught a neck shot and tried to snitch before he died (n*gga, you a rat)
two strikers, eight demons, send that lo’ and we gon’ be there (we gon’ come)
these n*ggas hoes, they keep bendin’ on some females (why y’all doin’ that?)
at eighteen, we was trappin’ out a 4matic (out the benz)
last ninety days, b*tch, i blew four pateks (four of ’em)
we’ll spin a n*gga block and hit a show after (bible)
the type to leave a n*gga head on his man’s hefty (on his man’s hefty)
uh, she gon’ f*ck off the chain, plus i got money, i got dummy rolls (yes, sir)
twenty thousand ain’t sh*t, i got that sh*t in clothes (uh, no)
i heard your mans tried to run, but it was switch on bro (hah)
i heard your mans got popped and went and snitched on folks (brrah, brrah, brrah, b*tch)

[verse 3: sk!lla baby]
house so rich, i stay away from the hook, huh
all my b*tches thick like tae vs. brooke
i’m always gettin’ money, boy, i stay f*ckin’ booked
n*gga play with lil tre, he gon’ get his ass cooked (huh)
all my b*tches fine as h*ll
real known in the trap, i should sign my scale
real get*money n*gga, i buy and sell
b*tches love f*ckin’ me, they know i won’t tell, huh
i hate n*ggas
aubrey graham, i be tryna drac’ n*ggas
i be tryna get real violent with fake n*ggas (huh)
brodie turn his food to a knife, he’ll shank n*ggas (huh)
in the h*llcat, me and five hundred racks
on the lodge, i just did five hundred laps
in the trap tryna sell five hundred packs
my young n*gga scam, he just caught five hundred jacks, huh
how you n*ggas tryna beef, ain’t got no bread?
i know i’ma still eat if i go fed
n*gga, quit talkin’ to me with your broke ass
you ain’t really violent with your ho ass
man, this sh*t on the floor, j*lopez
my n*gga’ll take a n*gga under for no cash, huh

- pros ap lyrics

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