You wasn’t takin’ trips, boy, I started with a nickel, here
Real trap n#gg#, up three birdies ’bout a fiscal year
Only takin’ trips, you could say I’m on my tourist flow
Mob tie, my plug get signs like he a horoscope
Hit the plug for three hundred grams and got eighty free
Touch down, I keep the bag secure just like ADT
Petty fiends can’t afford me
Got my b#tch cookin’, she gon’ step like a sorority
I’m finna swoop down right now, I’m on Evergreen
I ain’t worried ’bout them lil’ n#gg#s, they uncle scared of me
Don’t call Berner lookin’ for no ‘bows, I got better weed
My b#tch think she got me to herself, but she sharin’ me
Don’t hit me up talkin’ ’bout no brick, I only sell to fiends
I ain’t no rat, but I’ll run through your trap for that cheddar cheese
A hundred pack, twenty for a brick, plug from Lebanese
OxyContin, fentanyl, cocaine, methamphetamines
They don’t sell no loads, they burner phones, they don’t never ring
Just heated up the bag, I got some pit that you ain’t never seen
I got fiends used to shoot the dog, they only snort now
My fiend show me fiends in every town like he a tour guide
Oxymorphone, sh#t, I probably sold ’bout every bean
Wholesale, but I triple profit off of every fiend
I been in the pharm’ all week, that’s what they don’t record
Sell about a thousand every week, they call me opioid
I just drunk a pint in one sip, that’s how you know I’m bored
Dropped thirty, seen a corner truck, that’s when I know I scored
I been drinkin’ Act’ with no pop, I got open pores
I’m tryna cook a whole brick in here, n#gg#, close the door
Can’t survive this if you get hit, this a Glock 30
Six Perc 10s, I’m tryna f#ck, my dick not workin’
Dropped so many rounds out the Glock, this b#tch stopped workin’
I ain’t tryna f#ck, I’m tryna stuff you, b#tch, stop flirtin’
I can show you how to cook a meal when I’m out servin’
Lil’ b#tch stuffed a dollar fifty, and she stopped twerkin’
All exotics in my Backwood, this is not sherbet
Sixteen hundred, I’m in Palm Angel when I’m not workin’
My unky lit, he just like Tiger Woods, he only need a birdie
Brodie went and copped a white gold like he a Silver Surfer
We droppin’ sh#t, just like dead lifts, we can take it further
Headshots with the red tips just to make it certain
Louis skully five hundred, that’s just an ounce of weed
Before I learned to spell my first name, I could pronounce lean
A half a pound gone, it’s me and bro, quarter pound a piece
Just found a BIN, I’m tryna punch it in like I found a beat
You playin’ with ten, it’s me and Money Man, hundred thou’ a piece
That’s your brother now, you tryna flex, n#gg#, stop cappin’
I might kill a n#gg# at my show and just stop rappin’
Catch me out sellin’ all the, with the odd name
One up top, but leave his heart on ice just like he Rod Wave
You still gettin’ blues for the thirty, that is not a lane
Sixty round rapid out the chop, don’t know why I aim
Get the drop, leave brodie in your grass just like he a gnome
You need to hit your mans with a bag, look like he need a loan
Your big homie ain’t never did sh#t, how he a legend, though?
Lil’ bro be gettin’ rid of rats, he think he pest control
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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