CEO Trayle - C4C4C4 lyrics

Don D Man (Ay Don this beat dumb)

Uh sun drop, whip that
He can't get his bitch back (uh, uh)
Track hawk, sit back, came up off a zip pack
Murder in his eyes so he
Not someone to look at
Point of havin' a father for forgiveness
And when that baby boy get grown
Gotta teach him the family business
You don't know nun bout'
That mind yo business
Last one to leave the trap
First one to make a entrance
Focused on these bitches
Now these digit's must be kiddin'
(kiddin') tried to be at California kitchen
Trapped in this trap we ain't
Closin' uh uh uh give me one mo' summer
C4 boutta blow, I was ganging with Osama
Grady known for trauma
So that's what they had took foe
Cashapp the Grim Reaper
Lurkin' in a trench coat
I bench press like one thousand
Pounds then I went broke
And now who can you call on
When you need it? (hello)
And the help you said that you
Sent me I received that
Bitch, I be wearin' P down to deal boots
And I ain' got no deal, uh
So far let's see
C4 fell hard, but she said she fell too, ay
It was money over bitches well before
I had ran into you
Ay, I got a couple shootas
I might send them through
Find his block and spin it
Too, sense his toes
Find his door and split it too
Rule number one with these bitches
I can neva choose
And I'm sick of countin' money
But ain't no Thera-Flu
(ain't no Thera-Flu)

Ay, Money mmm Money ain't no Thera-Flu
C4 count that money but ain't no Thera-Flu
Ay, ay these niggas always swear
That they ahead of you

Ay Don this beat dumb c4c4c4