Trap Gospel

Pussy boy so counterfeit
He ain't never hit a lick
But tell the truth I'll pimp a bitch
And treat her like I never knowed her
Rock hard didn't need no soda
87 LS motor
Pussy boy say he gone rob me
Up fye then he die trying
Product yea of my my environment
Yea that's what the streets will do
Don't care bout what bitch would do
I'm just tryna get rich n shit
To pay my momma bills n shit
Cause really we don't come from shit
But really had to change the plans
Cause really come from weighing grams
Haters throw a grain of salt
But they never work the block
But hating about the shit I bought
And hating the way a nigga flaunt
A street nigga a bougie bitch
Man that's like the perfect match
I really use to work the trap
But really fot the skills to rap
Streets know I'm a cold stepper
Grinded hard in cold weather
Mob ties like goodfellas
Birds of feather flock together
That's why I hang with money
Niggas they be really bumming
Niggas man they really funny
In the trap I kept it coming

Niggas they already know
Teezy he'll stretch a bow
But Now I'm tryna rock a show
And niggas better hide they hoes
Three four seven it be the gang
Step on on niggas
Kappa Cane
Came through on Dana Dane
Tell the truth
It ain't no thang
87 Forgiato's
Ain't a place that I can't go
Pussy boy get hit with hollows
Get that money
That's the motto

Yea let's take this back to the real trap shit
The real rap shit
Niggas thought Teezy really fell off or something
Like I really ain't with this rap shit
Like I really ain't legit with this shit
A1 since Day 1 man
You go this hard you just let the beat talk for you sometimes
I'm in the bitch with my nigga Candyman
Three four seven mafia be the gang
You know what the fuck going on
I'm out this bihh



Credits
Writer(s): Tevin Satcher
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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