Trap sh*t lyrics

by

Q Da Fool


"Cheecho on the beat, b*tch!"

[Verse 1: Q Da Fool]
Choppa' in the club bust if you buck
Keep a rifle like I'm hunting a motherf*cking buck
Keep a stick like I'm hitting a puck
Red bottoms b*tch I don't do the chucks
Skeeted on a b*tch face, yuck
Them n*ggas missed me man that sh*t wasn't luck
I swear this n*ggas can't shoot
I do a lot of sh*t these n*ggas can't do
They saving b*tches we already ran through
Set up on your block b*tch you gotta move!
Popping molly b*tch I'm about to get geeked
And I can't keep a b*tch Q Da Fool he be cheating
Bring them bricks to the trap, man that sh*t getting beat
Free Lil Mar b*tch we kill for a reason
(b*tch I stay bout a check) cause my n*ggas need it
(n*ggas shoot at your neck) my lil n*ggas demons
You ain't running down putting beams on n*ggas chests
Rich Shootah the label our work is the best
Hi-Tech with the Qualitest
Fendi and Valentino I'm the best dressed
He was tough till' i walked down with the 30 S
Q Da Fool putting all beef to rest
Lost one case but i beat the rest
You a b*tch boy you need to get redirect-ed
Play with the gang yo ass gon' be dead
Tryna be a Rich Shootah b*tch go get some bread
f*ck a bank b*tch my bank is the bed
f*ck the feds, Q Da Fool built for a bid
45 with the beam knock off his head
Hollow tip hit him make his ass do the legg
Go retarted like I'm poisoned by lead
And I keep ammo got a thousand rounds in the shed
f*ck a hundred round today it's two hundred
f*ck around a spinned a bin with 400
My n*ggas catching bodies my n*ggas hunting
Pull up in that Tesla sound like its humming
I'm thumbing, b*tch n*gga I'm thumbing!
Cheecho on the beat, I'm f*cking up something
b*tch it's Q-Pac these n*ggas Lil Pumpin'
These n*ggas snitch man they giving out hunches
I'm giving out bullets you giving out punches
You don't want it
b*tch n*gga don't want it
I'm on the run so they say that I'm wanted
Spinned the bin and man my little n*ggas done it
We the ones who make it cold when its sunny
We the ones shot up your block and make your whole city ugly
n*ggas hating cause they b*tch wanna f*ck me
When I walk in the club bet them n*ggas don't touch me
Came up cause a couple n*ggas trust me
Beefing hard n*ggas still ain't buss me
These n*ggas ain't shooters they sweet as some honey
Don't beef over b*tches we beef over money
It ain't a secret got my guns from the country
All designer, all this sh*t out the country
100 Round Goon!
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