Trap Jumpin lyrics

[Intro]
Trap Gospel
Ayy, ayy

[Verse 1: Q Da Fool]
Yeah, I heard the rumors (Huh)
Word around town they said, "Q, he ain't a shooter" (He ain't a what?)
Don't make me walk down with the Ruger
I got respect with the tech this sh*t produced by Lex Luger
How you gon' disrespect the gangster? I might just shoot at your Uber
Apply pressure to da' pack, n*gga, I ain't cooking noodles
Hang wit' all Pitbulls these n*ggas hang out wit' poodles
Heard he flexin', heard he stuntin', so you know I gotta move 'em
Da' folks say ho on the block I had to get it by myself
A lot a gas, a lot of Molly, I keep guns pace by my belt
If a n*gga think he cool bet this bullet make him melt
Close mouths don't get fed told your b*tch to help herself
n*ggas out here snitchin', on God, I won't say nothin'
Trap house jumpin'
Junkies keep on runnin' (Comin')
I done seen n*ggas switch up over a woman (Wow)
Swervin' they ain't nothin', the loyalty make it somethin' (Hello)
Shooters hoppin' out with the .40 on they hips
Everybody around me servin' zips and maybe bricks
I don't you so don't f*ck around wit' me
Who gon' shoot first? it might be a murder scene
[Verse 2: D-Loww]
Who gon' shoot first? I let these tech squirt
I'ma expert at lettin' guns work
I gotta lotta money from my scale and my stove (Scale and my stove)
If he ain't go to jail, then the n*gga probably told (For real)
I done kick a couple n*ggas [does?] but I won't tell a soul
Have these n*ggas talkin' ganster, all these n*ggas hoes (I'm out)
I'm talkin' [business?][1:36] and selling drugs, I even robbed some stores
n*ggas think I'm lyin', n*gga, just go ask my folks

[Verse 3: Q Da Fool]
Put his lil' ass out his misery
Run down with heavy artillery
Trappin' out largo wit' PBG (Gang)
All dese keys ain't not symphony
I punish the pus*y she fearin' me (Fearin' me)
I hope out the jeep buss some 223's (Bah)
I'm f*ckin' they hoes so they envy me
The clippers real long like a centipede (Gang, gang, gang)
Pop me a bottle more energy
Pourin' the more my remedy (Remedy)
Berretta 45 that's my mini me (Bah!)
Bullet pull up in a finite (Skrr, skrr)
[?][2:00] be cookin', got recipes (Woof, woof)
Heaven or hell your destiny (Destiny)
Wildin' out ain't no checkin' me (No checkin' me)
Ridin' round with that check on me (That check on me)
Pull up on blocks like ayy (Ayy, ayy)
They know I got that cake (Got that cake)
b*tches on me 'cause they know I got that money ('Cause they know I got that money)
Straight drop molly turn you to a mummy (Turn you to a mummy)
Came along way from Trey 5's now I got onions
Now I got onions my trap be bumpin' (Bumpin' bumpin')
My trap be j-j-j-j-jumpin' my sh*t be jumpin'
My phone be jumpin' (Hello, hello)
b*tches on my line, yeah, they straight gunkin'
[Interlude]
But I'on love 'em (I just f*ck 'em)
Trap god (f*ck 'em)
I just f*ck 'em
I just f*ck 'em? (Trap gospel, n*gga)
Ayy, after we f*ck 'em what we do bro? (Ayy, believe in this sh*t, n*gga)
n*gga, yeah we duck 'em

[Verse 3: ]
I be wit' lions, you be with rats
Lil' D gon' get his ass
Q Da Fool really play with bats
You know the gang came to pop some tags
Send my young n*ggas on his ass
We get the drugs and the mask (Mask)
If I go broke I put on the mask (Mask)
Trust me I won't spare my last

[Outro]
Gang, gang, gang, gang
Gang, gang, gang, gang
f*ck it is, man
Trap Gospel
Trap boy gang
Gang, gang, gang, gang
Gang, gang, gang, gang
Bro, you a fool, bro