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what’s poppin’ remix - trent hunter lyrics

trent

(pooh you the goat, boy)

ayy, what’s poppin’ brand new whip ain’t ranger
just hopped in, then took off with a bop and sike… just joshin’
bruh i always am locked in
comin’ at you like a shark fin, haha fin
that means, “the end”
sorry jack harlow, but i guess i am the sh*t on pooh’s beat
haha get it, potty joke
can’t choke, doke, stroke, and put the folk in hip*hop, son
and i am mr. harlow 2.0 and sorry og
but i already f*cked dua lipa
and that’s mr. hunter every stage a stand
i’m red, white, and blue like an american eagle, eagle, eagle
coordinate instrumental like a teachеr, teacher, teachеr
alyssa, you beech made, haha, look, a seagull
bathin’ in hip*hop waters, stayin’ fresh just like detergent, gain
you ain’t got a thinkin’ brain, in most breakups i don’t gain
to you this is just a game, but i own like ten arcades
insert token then can play, can’t level up, not your domain
you ain’t sh*t, you urinate, stupidity keeps me entertained
you can make straight a’s all year long and still won’t go to college
if ryan still got a problem with stickin’ sh*t up his f*ckin’ nose
yeah, d*mn dude that was dope
that trent kid goin’ gold, sellin’ 50k to a show
mom and dad in the front row, all the rest just really love my flow
numbers risin’ people at my door, alyssa saw me then she struck a pose
then take me to court while wearin’ a dress and b*tch me about my bankroll
i’m eighteen years old with a 300 and i do not take no stank hoes
i’m ji*born and it’s always warm like a deep freeze, always stay froze
and you hide your face like a taliban b*tch or get beat with these sandals
and i’m sick and tired of hearin’ hearsay of what who said when they were here there
i tell tj and jessica to go play my track in the mornin’
what i do made bobby bones talk about some young rapper outta charleston
92.5, nah 103.5 fm
yo, alex and alyssa, who’s ryan tarrance fam?
i don’t know, i’m not a boozer, don’t know his songs, ain’t gonna learn it
prolly somethin’ ‘bout growin’ beards, fat hoes, and weed burnin’
don’t forget the adderall, eighty grams
concentrate or die tryin’, life is gone, haha
crackheaded wackjobs call me odd and always talk when i ain’t around, fact
more spins than a merry*go*round that’s on the california coast b*tch
this trailer trash sayin’ that i suck, i’m on land takin’ all your crops (pooh you the goat boy)
so, when you’re sobered up, walkin’ on 61 you can hit hunter music productions up

- trent hunter lyrics

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