Lyrics T.R.A.P. (Pack Gone) - Big Scoob, B-Legit, Boogieman

T.R.A.P. (Pack Gone)

I’ma get it regardless
Wet weed, a cane, grit game retarded
Look who does it the hardest
A cold blood hustler, nigga, a grind artist
I make it look good when I do it
I ain’t sleepin' 'til about dawn
I’m a pusher so I move it, move it
Fuck with me, I get the pack gone
Fuck with your boy get the pack gone
Can’t keep up with the demand, get my trap on (my trap on)
Traffic and package no melon
My chrome’s on the trill, they got nothing to thrill on
I move with the night and my wife, get the hell on
Don’t leave too much for my neighbors to tell on
I face-to-face meet and I’m cool on them cellphones
You say Boogie got you
For what, bitch?
Your scale wrong
I been here before
Ask the tall and the cell wrong
They can’t tell me shit, ain’t no talking, the bell home
I know what it is, I signed up for this shit
I’m equipped with the gift and came up in the mix
It’s a bull-headed bitch but we joined at the hip
Man, she stay on the strip, acrobatically fit
Automatically shift, back-to-back for that fix
I’m a savage at this
For that cabbage we grit, bitch
I’ma get it regardless
Wet weed, a cane, grit game retarded
Look who does it the hardest
A cold blood hustler, nigga, a grind artist
I make it look good when I do it
I ain’t sleepin' 'til about dawn
I’m a pusher so I move it, move it
Fuck with me, I get the pack gone
Fuck with your boy, get the pack gone
If you need me quick, hit me up on that trap phone
Before I leave, I lace my boots, put my strap on
She ask who I’m with I said «Just me and 9's own»
Crooked’s main field, I’m your neighborhood pusher
I’m Scarface when you fucking with my sister
I wake up early morning just to hit the cook up
Then post up on the block and tell 'em all I got the hook-up
The way I move shit, I can’t help it, I’m gifted
I called you, didn’t pick up, it’s your fault you missed it
Got more serves, I’m gon' swerve, might hit the block when I come back
If you give me 'bout a nine dog I pull up with that get back
Don’t fuck with these rappers, I look up to street guys
Fuck all your features, blood, I got real street ties
If it make money, then you know I touched that
Big Fella gotta get a job, lookin' here, nigga, fuck that
I’ma get it regardless
Wet weed, a cane, grit game retarded
Look who does it the hardest
A cold blood hustler, nigga, a grind artist
I make it look good when I do it
I ain’t sleepin' 'til about dawn
I’m a pusher so I move it, move it
Fuck with me, I get the pack gone
Trap addict and back at it with bad habits
Gotta wrap it in hard plastic before you blast it
Problematic, I’m hog-hatted and never acted
And before I was rappin' I made that bag happen
For homies, they all know me, ain’t nothing phony
I be all on my lonely until there’s macaroni
I be all on my lonely I got that pack up on me
Now try running up on me and watch me you leave holy
West nigga, a fresh nigga with best buds
I pressed niggas and blessed niggas who spread love
They ain’t knowing what this trap game really 'bout
Running up another check, never running out
Jack city, with mack with me, we moving quickly
About a hundred-and-fifty I’m try’na move a city
Trap artists, the hardest, who try’na move it with me?
Cause I’ma get it regardless, it really ain’t no biggie
I’ma get it regardless
Wet weed, a cane, grit game retarded
Look who does it the hardest
A cold blood hustler, nigga, a grind artist
I make it look good when I do it
I ain’t sleepin' 'til about dawn
I’m a pusher so I move it, move it
Fuck with me, I get the pack gone