CEO Trayle - Scandal lyrics

Ayy, if you don't know me
Now you know me, nigga
I'm a lil' rich fuckin' bastard

Ayy, nigga, I'm a rich fuckin' bastard
Reach, get you plastered
Prayin' for a brick
See my prayers gettin' answered
Yeah, I'm prayin' for a
Lick, my stick dirty, It got cancer
Play and get you canceled
Flew the bitch from Tampa
It was me and Spiffy throwin'
Money on the dancers
Prada Papi on my Transformer Prada sandals
She said she was gay, crossed her over
I got handles
Yeah, instead of you just hustling
Rather get rich off of scandals
In a drop-top with a bitch look
Like the bitch from Scandal
Ayy, with a black ski on my head
I gotta watch for cameras
Yeah, I bet he get put inside the trunk
Life's a gamble
In the studio with Johnny C, no rappin'
We all gamble i was on the backstreet, I
Heard a gunshot, ayy
I seen a body had dropped
Ayy, but nobody called cops
Get the striker, get the car chopped
My garage look like a car shop
And my bully eat steak and pork chops
And my studio gated, Fort Knox
It was just me and Yak
We used to steal cars and door lock
It was just me and Jet
We used to tell everybody come shop
It was just me and JB
We high speed in my BM car
It was just me and Cashout, thirty clips
My mask out 'Cause we finna take somethin'
Ayy, bitch, I'm rich, I'll pay for it
My lil' boy break somethin'
When I feel broke, I get some pounds to trap
But who gon' take somethin'?
In the studio, shit saved my life
I'm tryna make somethin' ayy, nigga
I'm just tryna be great for son son
Had walked out the studio, came back in
I wasn't done plug droppin' fifty bags
Tryna meet me at the London
Ayy, if the situation sticky, keep your gun
Son nigga, I don't trust nothin'
Baby boy got trust funds ayy, ayy
C4 be on my shoulder tellin' me to shoot him
Ayy, ayy, the CEO say, "Calm your
Nerves, nigga, you the boss
Just use your shooters"
Ayy, I can't trust these niggas no more
They some wocky movers
He the one that took it there, I
Wouldn't even got us to this, Uh
It's a fifty-fifty split this shit
If we gon' do this
If these bitches comin'
Make sure it's some
Commas 'round, we been through this, Uh
I'ma empty a whole clip, nigga
If I'm gon' shoot this up
It's some real niggas with me right
Now that don't give a fuck
So I keep it tucked, ain't gon' slow down
Speed it up
Purple sell me nina plug, to come back
Keep re-in' up
Nigga got that look on his face
Like they finna eat it up
Ayy, these niggas better do
Right, a hundred shots, Disagree with us
Funeral homes goin' up
Fifty-shot drums loadin' up
Ayy, goddamn, 4, you goin' up, uh
Nigga, you must think I ain't notice that
Hit your block and take your temperature, you
Fraud and I can't vent with you, Uh
So you better keep that stick with you

(Hold up, Spiffy on this motherfucker)