Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fruit Pack, artist - Chris Travis. Date of issue: 14.06.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Fruit Pack |
| Smoking packs, smell like fruit |
| Pull up bitch, |
| Hit a lit, fuck a crew |
| She gon' move, how she move |
| Hashish sticks, up in school |
| Now I hit it, to the moon |
| Got your bitch, out this room |
| Now she headed, to her doom |
| And I kill like ?50K? |
| Niggas slaves, niggas bait |
| And I keep my business straight |
| Bigger plate, fishy steak |
| And fuck with all bitches |
| It don’t matter, any race |
| And I keep a large limit |
| Fuck what any nigga say |
| Tell, like, B, who the fuck you be? |
| Nigga, yeah, that’s me |
| For some beep, niggas swoosh and sweep |
| Bitch is bitter sweet |
| Hit my phone, lil bitch what you need? |
| I can’t help your niece |
| On my own, with my family tree, my niggas different breed |
| Think you tough, think you bout that, push and scout back |
| Fuck a bitch, I ain’t bout that, where the cash at? |
| Staying loyal, I won’t doubt that |
| Blowin' flat pack, losing screws out your |
| Get the fuck back |
| I’m on a move |
| All you niggas lose |
| Got your |
| She might my shoes |
| Green in livin' room |
| Coming soon |
| All you niggas lose |
| Fuck the game, no rules |
| I’m the truth and I play my jewels |
| Like I went to school |