PARIS - Justin Rarri

Baby I’m trappin', so just leave me 'lone, I ain’t gon' say how I feel today

I been ridin' doley with my brothers, these niggas ain’t cut enough,

I had to get away

Fuck all these broke niggas, I ain’t never really fucked with y’all niggas

Only worried 'bout the bands and my niggas, she don’t like it when I’m out with

my niggas

Bitch, I’m a real life savage, fuck a nigga hoe, took her out to Paris

And that bitch know I’m 'bout it, I get two-hunnid-fifty in a mansion

On the gang I swear we wildin', tool-er in the back, don’t try no edgy shit

Told my whole team that I got 'em, fuck on a hoe while I count these commas

I’m runnin' it up, countin' up Obama’s

Got it all by myself, you ain’t believe, we was sellin' leafs, with these hoes

on me

Nigga set up with the gang, know they rock with me, big killers and them O’s

with me

Twenty-five just for the gold on three, can’t no nigga walk, like he known with

me

No number, just the gold on three (Ugh)

Got on my ass and bitch put Louis on my dawg

Broke niggas talk down on my name, just like these hoes 'cause I’on trust 'em

I got a message for all you fake niggas, that have never seen me come from

nothing

Whole lotta hoes they mad at me, 'cause after I fuck I swear I’ma dub her

Told that bitch I can fly her to Asia, how you blowin' my phone when you hate

me?

Only fuck with me 'cause I got paper, they talking on me like they know I’ma

take it

Got rubies and ritz, tomorrow we baking it, and that nigga try finding

converstations, I hate it

That bitch, we got them bands by our 'lone, 'lone, why they talkin' to me?

I’on know y’all

Baby I’m trappin', so just leave me 'lone, I ain’t gon' say how I feel today

I been ridin' doley with my brothers, these niggas ain’t cut enough,

I had to get away

Fuck all these broke niggas, I ain’t never really fucked with y’all niggas

Only worried 'bout the bands and my niggas, she don’t like it when I’m out with

my niggas

Bitch, I’m a real life savage, fuck a nigga hoe, took her out to Paris

And that bitch know I’m 'bout it, I get two-hunnid-fifty in a mansion

On the gang I swear we wildin', tool-er in the back, don’t try no edgy shit

Told my whole team that I got 'em, fuck on a hoe while I count these commas

I’m runnin' it up, countin' up Obama’s