Trap sh*t V3 (I Got This) lyrics

[Hook: Trae Da Truth]
All my chains hanging, I say I'm getting money
These haters looking p*ssed off, me I'm gonn count this money
These hoes gonn f*ck or get lost, they can't get nothing from me
These hoes gonn f*ck or get lost, they can't get nothing from me
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
b*tch I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
b*tch, I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
b*tch I got this, got this

[Verse 1: Trae Da Truth]
I stay counting this paper, a-t-r b*tch I've been player
This sh*t I'm holding too heavy
This chain I got I out weight ya
I'm not what you expected, bad, bad, b*tches respected
She fine, I just might take it
She hit me, she gonn get naked
I got a god damn problem, you ain't know
Yeah I got a couple of haters, tryina give me some more
I walk in the club like look b*tch turn up
Ain't not a b*tch tryina get it but go
I choose it, I'm groovy
Everyday I'm tryina to make me a movie
These rocks I got, stay hd
It ain't fear, oh what I gotta do me
I'm like wat up b*tch, see me baby
I ain't got no worries like weezy baby
I do this sh*t too easy baby
[Cause risk I got, chris music baby]???
I go to Houston, chop the deuce like where you go
I ain't talking bruce, up in the hood with gree
And I ain't talking goose, a young n*gga jaded
Like I was holding juice
[Hook: Trae Da Truth]
All my chains hanging, I say I'm getting money
These haters looking p*ssed off, me I'm gonn count this money
These hoes gonn f*ck or get lost, they can't get nothing from me
These hoes gonn f*ck or get lost, they can't get nothing from me
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
b*tch I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
b*tch, I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
b*tch I got this

[Verse 2: Problem]
Hey b*tch, I'm the molly man
This di*k don't make you f*ck, I bet this molly can
Stay with that bomb, kush be Taliban
The truth like trae, no need for polygraph
Shoppin like atorners, half hoes bustin like them lamas
I for sure gonn need a trauma for each one of my baby mama
Can't stop telling I'm a fillionaire, feel me player? Hope you do
Cause if you don't, it's f*ck you folks, to f*ck your mom
And f*ck your crew
Like yeah, he be like that, gold chain swanging like a baseball bat
D on my feety, that's my baseball cap
Diamond Lane gang, bang, bang, you flat
[Hook: Trae Da Truth]
All my chains hanging, I say I'm getting money
These haters looking p*ssed off, me I'm gonn count this money
These hoes gonn f*ck or get lost, they can't get nothing from me
These hoes gonn f*ck or get lost, they can't get nothing from me
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
b*tch I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
b*tch, I got this, got this
Look b*tch, I got this, got this
b*tch I got this, got this

[Verse 2: Trinidad James]
What you got n*gga, what I got n*gga
What you got n*gga, I tell you what I got n*gga
n*gga I got this, I've been handed
Ever since my shirt and socks were matchin
I never hit the block with that action
But I get your b*tch and I'm smashing
n*ggas mad they can't act up
Who the truth you can ask us
Trae tha truth and young problem
Got a hunned goons that mask up
You ain't gonna do a damn thang
Them red boys get on ways
To fly away on this situation
And I don't know what you insinuating
Don't play me like no sucker, I turn up and then f*ck her
We real n*ggas, y'all busters
Got your b*tch that blushin
You can try us if you want
I'll tell you what we'll do
Take all of your b*tches
And make em f*ck the crew, n*gga!