Trap Shit - Gucci Mane, Lil Baby

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, these hood bitches, they love 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)