Larry June - Trappin' Orange Juice lyrics
Larry Eugene Hendricks
[Larry June - Trappin' Orange Juice lyrics]
Old weird ass niggas I
Can't fuck witchu niggas
This Glock-40 so hot
I can't even touch the trigger
I'm drinkin' purified water and
My bitch gettin' thicker
When my iPhone ring bitch my check get bigger
I don't give a fuck bitch you
Can dip I ain't trippin'
I'm a muthafuckin I got multiple women
But, I love you hoe, we can go to the moon
We can run up a check, have a Bentley by noon
Bitch you know I ain't playing
Bitch you know I'm the man ice on my hand
I ain't write this
I got white bitch, I got black bitch
Glock with stick, going crazy
You ain't really wit it
Your sideline pimpin'
Runnin' up digit's, I ain't playin' with her
Gotta touch a million
Talkin' with a lisp, runnin' up a ticket
Bitch tsk tsk, what the fuck is this
Should I keep going, neck on snowin'
Hoe still hoein', I been on Boeings
That's a jet, if you ain't' know it
Ridin' wit it, that's a big thang
Do my damn thang, that's a nice chain
Like a door, bitch I got knocks
She a goer, money out the cot
She drive a Benz, slidin' up the block
Her nails did, and bag cost a lot
I'm a healthy nigga, I got the knowledge
I got the game, I got the power
These niggas sour, 'cause she chose
Don't check me, check the hoe
Choppa bussin', cop a dozen
Trappin', sellin' hella onions
Bitch I need a fifty all these
Hoes choosin' all a sudden
Where was you last summer
New coupe and it's rented (woo, woo)
Did a hundred, stash spot in the under
Money like them white boys
Bitch I got more than a hunnid
Bitch I got more than a 2
Rollie no diamonds or nothin'
I'm overly beatin' they ass
Always keep fifty on hand
My backpack cost 3 of them bands
My snapback all vintage and shit
I'm slidin', everything I do is organic
I'm drinkin' smoothies in morning
I fix the hoe like mechanic
Don't be playin' wit a P
You can meet me 'round 3
We can eat a taco, we can smoke on this tree
Like a door, bitch I got knocks
She a goer, money out the cot
She drive a Benz, slidin' up the block
Her nails did, and bag cost a lot
I'm a healthy nigga, I got the knowledge
I got the game, I got the power
These niggas sour, 'cause she chose
Don't check me, check the hoe
Can't fuck witchu niggas
This Glock-40 so hot
I can't even touch the trigger
I'm drinkin' purified water and
My bitch gettin' thicker
When my iPhone ring bitch my check get bigger
I don't give a fuck bitch you
Can dip I ain't trippin'
I'm a muthafuckin I got multiple women
But, I love you hoe, we can go to the moon
We can run up a check, have a Bentley by noon
Bitch you know I ain't playing
Bitch you know I'm the man ice on my hand
I ain't write this
I got white bitch, I got black bitch
Glock with stick, going crazy
You ain't really wit it
Your sideline pimpin'
Runnin' up digit's, I ain't playin' with her
Gotta touch a million
Talkin' with a lisp, runnin' up a ticket
Bitch tsk tsk, what the fuck is this
Should I keep going, neck on snowin'
Hoe still hoein', I been on Boeings
That's a jet, if you ain't' know it
Ridin' wit it, that's a big thang
Do my damn thang, that's a nice chain
Like a door, bitch I got knocks
She a goer, money out the cot
She drive a Benz, slidin' up the block
Her nails did, and bag cost a lot
I'm a healthy nigga, I got the knowledge
I got the game, I got the power
These niggas sour, 'cause she chose
Don't check me, check the hoe
Choppa bussin', cop a dozen
Trappin', sellin' hella onions
Bitch I need a fifty all these
Hoes choosin' all a sudden
Where was you last summer
New coupe and it's rented (woo, woo)
Did a hundred, stash spot in the under
Money like them white boys
Bitch I got more than a hunnid
Bitch I got more than a 2
Rollie no diamonds or nothin'
I'm overly beatin' they ass
Always keep fifty on hand
My backpack cost 3 of them bands
My snapback all vintage and shit
I'm slidin', everything I do is organic
I'm drinkin' smoothies in morning
I fix the hoe like mechanic
Don't be playin' wit a P
You can meet me 'round 3
We can eat a taco, we can smoke on this tree
Like a door, bitch I got knocks
She a goer, money out the cot
She drive a Benz, slidin' up the block
Her nails did, and bag cost a lot
I'm a healthy nigga, I got the knowledge
I got the game, I got the power
These niggas sour, 'cause she chose
Don't check me, check the hoe
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