Lyrics Gator - Chris Travis

Gator

They say I'm smoking weed too much
They see me on the internet, I'm adding up
Them bitches see me going, they know just what's up
My melodies is heavenly, they wanna fuck
Baby girl know where I'm from, she know it's tough
If a nigga set me off, I'm gon' erupt
I will run you out your shoes 'til they scuffed
Then I pick you up and take all of your stuff
Like what's up, pussy boy

I don't give a fuck about no nigga
Bank account nigga, like a sinkhole nigga
Spend it all day, make it back in an instant
Car brand new, niggas think it's a rental
She a damn tiger, brush her hair with a bristle
Young Chris Travis, got flow like a sprinter
And if a nigga try me, I'ma motherfucking get him
No cosign, bitch, I'm a go-getter
Don't profile, I don't know those niggas
Rear wheel drive, burn out, smoke niggas
See me on top and my name getting bigger
Yeah, she on top and my dick poke her tissues
Who a young nigga claim that he got issues?
Put his ass on next week, fucking issue
Heart real cold like a motherfucking igloo
Claim we this side, don't fuck with you
Bitch, I'm the motherfucking greatest
Probably why your favorite rapper hating
I ain't worried about no hater, island
Whip his ass up like some papers, wallet
I smoke weed by the acre
Pussy nigga better not save him
Bitch play good like a player
Can't talk now, I'll call your ass later
See me in the water like a motherfucking gator
Lyrics cut deep like a motherfucking razor
Who you talking to? Better be the operator
Or the damn pigs gon' have to come and save you
I'm the damn boss, better yet, I'm the mayor
Bitch say, "Why the hell your shirt say Satan?"
Even better, bitch, 'cause the shirt read Slayer
I'm a hungry bear just plotting in my lair
And if a nigga creep, I'ma motherfucking slay him
Never hit the boy 'cause they know they gotta pay him
Money, money, money from the PM to the AM
Never trick a ho, sorry girl, I don't cater
I don't tip strippers, bitch, I'd rather tip a waiter
I don't give advice 'cause I'd rather be a hater
'Cause everybody wrong just tryna make statements
Bitch, you ain't right 'less you sign all my statements

They say I'm smoking weed too much
They see me on the internet, I'm adding up
Them bitches see me going, they know just what's up
My melodies is heavenly, they wanna fuck
Baby girl know where I'm from, she know it's tough
If a nigga set me off, I'm gon' erupt
I will run you out your shoes 'til they scuffed
Then I pick you up and take all of your stuff
Like what's up, pussy boy