Gucci Mane, Lil Baby - Trap Shit lyrics

Dominique Armani Jones [4PF] Atlanta. USA.

[Gucci Mane, Lil Baby - Trap Shit lyrics]

(Zaytoven) trap shit
Trap shit (Huh) trap shit
Trap shit

Sellin' Vin Diesel, strong Cookie
That Keisha gucci poppin' P's like Georgia
Just made it legal (Wow)
Higher than an eagle
Leanin' like Beanie Sigel (I'm leanin')
Flyer than a pilot, jean jacket by Diesel
(Phew) all-gold rocket
The socket matchin' my Foamposite
You's a nobody, she goin'
She fuck with everybody (Go)
Lil' 'Crest boys in the hood
Wanna see a dead body?
Four pockets stuffed and LaFlare
We bust at everybody
At Club Crucial, thеse hood bitches
They lovе Crucial (Wow)
That's my young shooter
Recruit him to send some slugs through you
We search 'em 'fore they come in the trap
Might have a bug on 'em (Huh?)
He's a walking dead man, don't know it
He got a dub on him (yeah)
Beat him with a bat, then fuck it
Pour kerosene on him
Everybody searchin' for holmes
But we ain't seen homie
Chainsaw massacre, call 1017 on 'em
Make it look drug-related, man
Pour some lean on him

Everything I rap 'bout official
I'm from the streets, bitch
(Street) hundred thousand all my pockets
This ain't no sweet lick (Sweet)
'Nother 60K on my wrist, this a Patek, bitch
(This a Patek, bitch)
All my hoes got fat asses, they all on fleek
Bitch (They all on fleek, bitch)
All my bitches wearin' designer
I don't want no cheap bitch
(I don't want no cheap bitch)
Draco with me everywhere I go
On the front seat, bitch
(On the front seat, bitch)
Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (Wow)
Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (yeah)

Fifty racks cash on me
That's just today's profit (Today's profit)
4 Pockets Full, lil' bitch
I ain't got no damn wallet
(I ain't got no wallet)
Fuck around and got in the game
I got the streets poppin'
(I got 'em poppin')
Pussy niggas tellin' on me
I know the feds watchin'
(I know they watchin')
How the hell he gettin' this money?
I keep on buyin' watches
Jackboys thinkin' I'm sweet
I keep on buyin' choppers
Lock me up, I'm gettin' out tomorrow
I think I'm El Chapo
Bricks came 1017, I got some damn extras
Flexin' on these niggas on purpose
Check out this damn necklace
Dropped eighty racks on a Charger, next day
I damn wrecked it (Skrrt)
Pull up with them sticks like the army
They say we young veterans
They won't pull up in them apartments
They say we too treacherous

Everything I rap 'bout official
I'm from the streets, bitch
(Street) hundred thousand all my pockets
This ain't no sweet lick (Sweet)
'Nother 60K on my wrist, this a Patek, bitch
(This a Patek, bitch)
All my hoes got fat asses, they all on fleek
Bitch (They all on fleek, bitch)
All my bitches wearin' designer
I don't want no cheap bitch
(I don't want no cheap bitch)
Draco with me everywhere I go
On the front seat, bitch
(On the front seat, bitch)
Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (Wow)
Trap shit, niggas know I'm 'bout it (yeah)

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