Trapathon (feat. Wooda)

Yeah bi—h this a Trapathon
I got packs of bomb
I got pills for sell

Send it through the mail
They a never smell
I got clientele
I just made a sell

Phone ringing
Still still toting a glock
On probation still
Still and my lil ni—a still of a pill

I'm still in the field
Still hit the joint
That bi—h rolling still
Do 5k a day for two months straight

Bi—h that's a quarter mil
Bet that bi—h who ain't wanna fu-k you then
Suck d—k off the rip
H-e a trip

Yea that bi—h the swoop
All these h-es chaloopin
His wifey f—ked the crew
Camera phones the proof

They like Stakks a fool
Jumping out the coupe
I think I lost my roof
Like bishop got the juice

2k for these shoes
Bet I work my move
Know what ima do
One thing I can't understand

Is a dumb bi—h
Plug consistent with the work
He gone make me dumb rich
Wrist retarded spent a 30 ball

To make they eyes twitch
That's my bi—h
Yeah I paid to get her tits and a— did
Got this shit here out the mud

I ain't have to a— kiss
Hustling shit up in my blood
I could not be average
Put a price tag on yo head

Bet a ni—a end up missing
My white buddy he just called
And said he tryna cop a 50
It's a Trapathon

We got what you need
For the low
Cuz gone shake the drop
Guaranteed the P's gone call for mo

I'ma paper chaser
I can't go out bad chasin no h-e
I just left out Saks
And I spent 3 racks on me a coat

You see me & Stakks
Bets believe we going to get that load 
Drug money money dirty
I think ima need some soap

Migo nem get it across the border
Shit straight off the boat
P just hit me on my jack
Like what's the ticket in the smoke

What you need you need a half, a P
A cutie or a whole
Made 10 thousand in one week
When I was hustling off the phone

I got roll on me keep roll on me
What you boys need a loan
And I didn't need no hand outs
I got this sh-t up on my own

One thing I can't understand
Is a dumb bi—h
Plug consistent with the work
He gone make me dumb rich

Wrist retarded spent a 30 ball
To make they eyes twitch
That's my bi—h
Yeah I paid to get her tits and a— did

Got this shit hear out the mud
I ain't have to a— kiss
Hustling sh-t up in my blood
I could not be average

Put a price tag on yo head
Bet a ni—a end up missing
My white buddy
He just called

And said he tryna cop a 50



Credits
Writer(s): Raynard Carlton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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