The LOX, Trae Tha Truth - Reckless (feat. The LOX) lyrics
[The LOX, Trae Tha Truth - Reckless feat. The LOX lyrics]
We ain’t burning, liquor pour
Bitches calling me daddy
I’m a thug, 357 straight out the caddy
New York about my shoe, just flew in from
A hood bitch, slimmy but her ass is fatty
I’m hot right now, my balls got a tin top on
I’m a movie and you
Missing some fresh popcorn
Levi’s…with a fresh clock on
Reasonable doubt
I was young getting my rocks on
Now I’m out in Texas, you traitor
Or either back home in the
Studio with Styles and Jada
Life’s a gamble, cards is dealt
I put the medal in your
Bitch face like Raymond Felt, motherfucker
Fuck your mother if her son is a bitch
Fly from the barrel, one in the head
16 in the clip
D block niggas steaming the spliff
Promethazine, gun, lean, and a whip
I expect you to not fuck with me
All the shooters, they throw it up for me
This life’s murdering luxury
Talking to the gun in the
Car like it’s my company
12 rounds, no boxing, no glove
From the hood, no option, no love
Gangsters don’t die, mobsters don’t buzz
When niggas do time niggas draw blood
Feel me
King, I’m on this hustle like
I’m searching for keys
I’m on this block in position to
Whip a whole nigga’s ass
Damn right, I got a fucked up thinker
Run your mouth pertaining Trae
I'm dropping 4 in your blinkers
One in your stinker
Over stand up till I’m jamming my finger
I hit the spot and shake it down
And have it big like singers
I let this choppers go decrepit
Till it sound like arenas
Back up with 745s like I
Was shooting with beamers
Black twin, thick as hell, call… 30 niggas
About that business like he
Fresh out the cleaners
My nigga say he wanna work I
Ship him off with the pay
Get on my set, whipping the bet
Our city in black, they fresh out the shack
Smelling like crack
Get a moustache…pussy nigga
Trip with me, nigga, I barely react
It ain’t gonna be no nine lives, know that
Cat for real
Black strap, black ski mask, black flannel
Standard the rules of life but not manual
Go ahead, keep waiting for America to tan you
Discussing your life over shots
Of Jack Daniels
I95, got to working in back panels 50
50, a slim chance, a fat gamble
Some niggas like to stay in the pocket
Some scramble
Go through the progression, hit the target
Blame you light something up with a
Freak and watch Scandal
They can’t even get on they
Feet but can’t stand you
Believe every chance they get they remand you
Allah would never give you
Nothing you can’t handle
Bitches calling me daddy
I’m a thug, 357 straight out the caddy
New York about my shoe, just flew in from
A hood bitch, slimmy but her ass is fatty
I’m hot right now, my balls got a tin top on
I’m a movie and you
Missing some fresh popcorn
Levi’s…with a fresh clock on
Reasonable doubt
I was young getting my rocks on
Now I’m out in Texas, you traitor
Or either back home in the
Studio with Styles and Jada
Life’s a gamble, cards is dealt
I put the medal in your
Bitch face like Raymond Felt, motherfucker
Fuck your mother if her son is a bitch
Fly from the barrel, one in the head
16 in the clip
D block niggas steaming the spliff
Promethazine, gun, lean, and a whip
I expect you to not fuck with me
All the shooters, they throw it up for me
This life’s murdering luxury
Talking to the gun in the
Car like it’s my company
12 rounds, no boxing, no glove
From the hood, no option, no love
Gangsters don’t die, mobsters don’t buzz
When niggas do time niggas draw blood
Feel me
King, I’m on this hustle like
I’m searching for keys
I’m on this block in position to
Whip a whole nigga’s ass
Damn right, I got a fucked up thinker
Run your mouth pertaining Trae
I'm dropping 4 in your blinkers
One in your stinker
Over stand up till I’m jamming my finger
I hit the spot and shake it down
And have it big like singers
I let this choppers go decrepit
Till it sound like arenas
Back up with 745s like I
Was shooting with beamers
Black twin, thick as hell, call… 30 niggas
About that business like he
Fresh out the cleaners
My nigga say he wanna work I
Ship him off with the pay
Get on my set, whipping the bet
Our city in black, they fresh out the shack
Smelling like crack
Get a moustache…pussy nigga
Trip with me, nigga, I barely react
It ain’t gonna be no nine lives, know that
Cat for real
Black strap, black ski mask, black flannel
Standard the rules of life but not manual
Go ahead, keep waiting for America to tan you
Discussing your life over shots
Of Jack Daniels
I95, got to working in back panels 50
50, a slim chance, a fat gamble
Some niggas like to stay in the pocket
Some scramble
Go through the progression, hit the target
Blame you light something up with a
Freak and watch Scandal
They can’t even get on they
Feet but can’t stand you
Believe every chance they get they remand you
Allah would never give you
Nothing you can’t handle