Trap lyrics

by

Project Pat


[Intro: Juicy J & (Gucci Mane)]
Mhm
ATL (it's Gucci)
Memphis, Tenn connect (turn up)
Let's get it

[Verse 1: Juicy J & Gucci Mane]
All my b*tches call me papi
Sloppy pockets, I'm poppin'
All these dollars I been clockin'
It ain't no way to stop it
My wrist so rocky, Liberace watchin', 3 mil on watches
So much ice, drippin' off me
You and your b*tch could play hockey
I'm sippin' lean out a coconut cup, I'm in the tropics
I been countin' so much money, had to find me a hobby
I'm Czechoslaka, they watchin'
I got Rastas with choppers
Got the machine gun with cartridges
They runnin' in, they ain't knockin'
Steve Austin flossin', tell them it's a new boss in office
And if we ain't talking profit, it ain't no use in callin'
These n*ggas triple crossin', double cross, quadruple your losses
I heard them haters tried to block, I went bought two new Ferraris

[Chorus: Peewee Longway & Juicy J]
Double down with two pistols, ain't missin' no target
Right before the funeral, let you pick out your coffin
Had to triple cross the double cross, quadruple your losses
Sippin' lean like a coffee bean, ain't sleepin' on shawty
OK I doubled up the work, I put them things in the officeThen put them on the freeway, now I feel like I'm Rossi
Seen them peoples in my rear view, hit the gas and I lost 'em
Middle finger out the sunroof, they just mad cause I'm flossin'
Trap
[Verse 2: Juicy J & Gucci Mane]
All these rubber bands, f*ck what I'm gon do with a wallet?
I'm in the booth countin' money, I'm so goddamn c*cky
My lil' b*tch pop her pus*y, I just might pop me a molly
That clean codeine got me geeked up, spill lean all over Versace
I got killers with me, they don't do no talkin' or boxin'
I got that long bread, I'm talkin' footlong pizza, no toppings
Throw them goons a little bread
We'll take your baby's adoption
And we ain't worried about the feds
AR's in secret compartments
Ain't been to sleep in the longest, I sip that drank like it's coffee
They say that Gucci's a Martian, I buy my enemies coffins
We handle business like bosses and treat the streets like an office
I had a duplex with a million worth of bricks in the closet

[Chorus: Peewee Longway & Juicy J]
Double down with two pistols, ain't missin' no target
Right before the funeral, let you pick out your coffin
Had to triple cross the double cross, quadruple your losses
Sippin' lean like a coffee bean, ain't sleepin' on shawty
OK I doubled up the work, I put them things in the office
Then put them on the freeway, now I feel like I'm Rossi
Seen them peoples in my rear view, hit the gas and I lost 'em
Middle finger out the sunroof, they just mad cause I'm flossin'
Trap
[Verse 3: Juicy J]
You ain't know I spent that dough
And you might catch contacts
I got shooters on my side and if I say the word
Then they ready for combat
Like Vietnam, wartime ain't no joke
n*ggas be playin' till the bullets start sprayin'
Can't hide these guns 'cause the clips too long
Hunting for him, catch him hiding in his honeycomb
Turn his motherf*cking house to a haunted home
Money long, get you touched in your front lawn
Shots so loud setting off car alarms
Run along, or be the next n*gga dunked on
You be swearin' that you n*ggas got done wrong
Get you jacked, no mask, no gloves on
Beat a n*gga ass, then turn it to a club song
Vet in the game, got packs to prove
Young n*ggas call me Uncle Juice
I got more cash than Uncle Scrooge
Ya'll n*ggas made up like Dr. Seuss
All ice, no CZ
I ball, ya'll n*ggas in the minor leagues
Real sh*t, I got the sh*t on lock
Bout to put this game in a DDT
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