Trailer lyrics

[Produced by Cardiak]

[Verse 1]
Uh, okay now f*ck all this bullsh*t, I'm fresh off a full clip
Counting this f*cking money, did that with no scholarship
I guess what that money taught, so f*ck what you n*ggas thought
My b*tch got a Porsche truck, like look what that pus*y parked
Got that hustler demeanor, fresh and I'm out that two seater
Got to sleep with the reaper, and watch out for them people
Cause the devil be lurkin', all these pistols are dirty
All my n*ggas is riders, their clips extended with thirty
I woke up early this morning, thanked the lord I'm alive
Kissed my daughter then told my lady I'm back on the grind
Gotta do it for ? , that's my daily remind
f*ck these b*tches, the money, power, respect on my mind
It ain't no love for the weak, ain't no top on the Jeep
Tell them haters I'm over sea's, I'll be back in a week
I'm trying to get richer than Trump, a couple million for lunch
I need the cover of Forbes with We The Best on the front
I'm going main, n*gga kiss my ass
These n*ggas be stealing my flow and all, ain't even mad
I swear my flow is dope as coke, come get your bag
Just bought that Aston Martin, ymmm', that f*cker fast
n*gga started with a dollar and a dream, show me the cream
All about that profit piling, partner that's by any means
That fifty-thousand in my pocket busting out the seams
Hopping out that coupe, that roof go missing b*tch like bada-bing
Knock knock, bang bang, ever since back then they wanna know who I be
H double-O-D, was running the streets since I was like seventeen
I put it on mama, always dreamed of having a Lamborghin'
Them n*ggas was hating, still I was skating in that ?
Oh I mean mustang
It's money over b*tches, what my n*ggas claim
Probably in the whip with my little Spanish thing
All day, in the back of the back number nine J's
I be balling, Spalding, Nahmean?
I say what's up with them b*tches? Molly, weed, and some liquor
I'm the type of n*gga do you first and then your sister
I'm a savage, with fifty karats
Came from the bottom of the barrel, to living lavish
Blood on my sneakers, brother's keeper I see dead people
'Bout them figures, squeeze them triggers I'm just soul seeking
I think you pus*y, I can smell it on you loud and clear
And since my daddy left me young, I ran up out of fear
And when it come down to my family, b*tch I die for them
Blow that chopper through your chest to show you sh*t is real