hate Lyrics – Trippie Redd

hate Lyrics by Trippie Redd

Yeah, f#ck your money, f#ck your fame, we are not the same
Yeah, that’s my brother, that’s my blood, man, we all the same
Yeah, the first n#gg# act outta’ line, he gon’ get hit close range
Yeah, Red Dead Redemption I pull out that .30 and aim for the brain (Bah)

We in a Rari, we in a Bentley, we in a whole different lane
Hit the b#tch once, she callin’ back, I don’t even know the hoe name
She wanna kick it, I’m not with that, I sent that ho straight on a plane
Yeah, we gettin’ fly, we gettin’ high, I’m in the sky like a crane

She let me hit, she think I’m famous, she do not f#ck with no lames (Woo)
I’m a dark knight, but when I’m with gang, they say that I’m more like Bane
Play with the gang, you know that they knockin’ off brains
We still in the block, we go hard in the paint

I stay with my Glock, you get hit on the face
I’m King of the Hill, I feel like Hank
Purple Glocky like a saint
He slid in a Honda, I slide in a tank

He not with the gang, he don’t got a rank
I’m walkin’ around with the motherf#ckin’ bank
Smokin’ on gas, smokin’ on dank (b#tch)
Blowin’ her back, givin’ her face

Put on my mask, too much hate
Pull up with chopps, now my opps in a lake
Got some cops in the block, now we hoppin’ a gate
We from 800 block where the opps do not hang

We from 800 block where the opps cannot bang
I got pulled over, I don’t know a thing
Run up some racks, he gon’ get you a train
Run up some racks, he gon’ get you a name

My bro from the Chi’ and he lettin’ it bang
You keep saving hoes, I’ma get you a cape
My b#tch is a ten out of eight
I told you I’m cozy, K?

You probably wouldn’t even make it this way
Broke #ss games, I don’t know how to play
Gun too big, it’ll blow up your face (Yes)
Racks on me, she tryna see what I weigh

When I’m in New Orleans, I feel like a saint
Keep one in the head ’cause these n#gg#s all fake
Got booked for a show but I’m showin’ up late
Presidential, you know how I’m ridin’

I just showed ’em the racks, now she quiet
She just took a fake Perc, now she dyin’
In expensive threads, I’m at her high end
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Trippie Redd Lyrics – hate

Trippie Redd

hate