Myths lyrics

by

Joey Trap


[Chorus: Joey Trap]
I remember sellin' all that rock
I remember postin' on that block
I ain't have no roof over my head
Still ain't got no roof, I drop my top
Pull up, I swerve
No cup, sip syrup
I shoot 3's, no Curry
My b*tch knees, they hurt, huh
n*ggas put some bands on my head
Y'all should get refunded for your bread
Make her pray to god before bed
Then pass the b*tch to God and catch red

[Verse 1: Joey Trap]
Aye, say some sh*t on me cause I'm the Kloud God
Instagram @kloudgod
All this soundcloud rappin' prolly cause I'm, cause I'm Kloud God
Ball until I fall out
I just found a rap game and f*cked it till she tapped out
f*ck that broke sh*t, don't need no broke b*tch, she need her own sh*t
That I don't spit unless you throw me a couple bones
She like, "Hol' up, I might pull up"
My necklace, yellow diamonds, I'm a sensi
Oh sh*t, I'm on my old sh*t, I'm on my old sh*t
My froze wrist, my momma knows this, she said [?]
I'm skrtin', but that not my whip, that sh*t is stolen
That's not my whip, that sh*t is stolen
[Chorus: Joey Trap]
I remember sellin' all that rock
I remember postin' on that block
I ain't have no roof over my head
Still ain't got no roof, I drop my top
Pull up, I swerve
No cup, sip syrup
I shoot 3's, no Curry
My b*tch knees, they hurt, huh
n*ggas put some bands on my head
Y'all should get refunded for your bread
Make her pray to god before bed
Then pass the b*tch to God and catch red

[Verse 2: God]
I remember standin' on that money block
Movin' packs, tryin' not to get knocked
Middle fingers to the cops, they the opps
I got a stove and a fork and a pot
Yeah, I cook that work
That ain't OG, you smoke that durb
When I'm in ATL, I smoke that [?]
Run up on me, you gon' get murked
I got a full clip full of hollow tips and the red dot
Clientele and a lot of work, the block red hot
12 kicked in the door, now we got a dead cop
Aim for the body, if I miss, I catch a headshot
Now he gone, I ain't did nothin' wrong
I got so much work, hell, I need a f*ckin' clone
And no, b*tch, I ain't c*cky, I'm in my zone
If work ain't what you talkin', don't hit my phone
[Chorus: Joey Trap]
I remember sellin' all that rock
I remember postin' on that block
I ain't have no roof over my head
Still ain't got no roof, I drop my top
Pull up, I swerve
No cup, sip syrup
I shoot 3's, no Curry
My b*tch knees, they hurt, huh
n*ggas put some bands on my head
Y'all should get refunded for your bread
Make her pray to god before bed
Then pass the b*tch to God and catch red
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