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lirik lagu go to hell – trdee

[intro]
(jose the plug)

[verse 1: trdee]
chop or the glock, pick your match, dog
broke as f*ck, somebody need to fix him like a patch
if i liked weak sh*t, i’d listen to you rap
room full of bad b*tches, go ahead and pick a snack
i’ll bet the whole bank on myself and double down
what, is this the lost and found? can’t believe y’all still in style
i’m just tryna stack my money, tryna add it to the pile
had trials and tribulations, never throwin’ in the towel

[verse 2: stanwill]
we ain’t at the club, but your ho strippin’
think it’s fresh up out the grease how i blow chicken
pull up tryna step, leave your toes missin’
thinkin’, should i play the five*sevеn or just four*fifth it?
twenty on my neck, b*tch, it’s thirty on my wrist
b*tch, i’m quick to throw a bullet likе i’m purdy if they blitz
lil’ bro ain’t kickin’ nothin’, his cup as dirty as it get
worried ’bout them commas, you won’t catch me worried ’bout no b*tch

[verse 3: trdee]
bro fresh out tryna get revenge
heard you was out here droppin’ dimes like a couple tens
i ain’t even trippin’ ’bout that sh*t, i took it on the chin
up before the birds chirpin’, i’m just tryna get it in
i don’t act, b*tch, i ain’t samuel
bro ain’t tell n0body ’bout his body, he don’t kiss and tell
you don’t like my music? you can go to h*ll
ho sh*t should be a felony, now throw him in the jail
[verse 4: stanwill]
playin’ with my dough get you baked, spill his marinara
i’m so motherf*ckin’ rich, designer what i wear for errands
i’m with trdee, boy, that’s my brodie like we sharin’ parents
muggin’ get you shot, i swear to god, you will get aired for starin’
treat the opps like some ‘za, bet we roll up and blow ’em
got a b*tch in every city, all these hoes on my scr*t*m
catch me chillin’ in his yard just lioke a gnome, b*tch, i’m on him
known to put a b*tch to sleep, might f*ck your ho into a coma

[verse 5: trdee]
y’all n*ggas always b*tchin’, y’all a bunch of karens
wish you would try to play me like a ho, i’m double*darin’
flyer than a jet, i’m like that qb, you can call me aaron
popped a mean mug at a n*gga, who you think you scarin’?
hibachi steak, hibachi rice
you know that you livin’ good when you ain’t trippin’ ’bout the price
f*ck around and bless a b*tch, today, i’m feelin’ nice
please, do not buy no designer if you cannot buy it twice

[verse 6: stanwill]
if i ain’t at the stu’, i’m up at hutchy buyin’ ice
think i’m j*panese, i’m uppin’ chopsticks to fry his rice
if i don’t catch ’em when we slide, i’m tryin’ twice
had to grab a hundred faygos, all my n*ggas buy is pints
tryna drop the jeep with the robo roof
thinkin’ with his meat, put a ho on you
goin’ through my phone, that’s a no*no, boo
better not say it’s up with the gang, we might blow your dukes, dummy
dog sh*t militia
[outro: trdee]
i don’t act, b*tch, i ain’t samuel
bro ain’t tell n0body ’bout his body, he don’t kiss and tell
you don’t like my music? you can go to h*ll
ho sh*t should be a felony, now throw him in the jail

- trdee

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