Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song TrapMania, artist - Gucci Mane. Date of issue: 15.08.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
TrapMania |
| So Icey Boys |
| That boy Fizzle |
| 870 trench baby, you know the struggle raised me |
| Bein' broke ain’t turned me down, that shit just got me motivated |
| Ivory loud, got on my shit and put my foot on all my haters (Uh-huh) |
| Money stackin' up in layers, look like I play for the Lakers (Well damn) |
| We gon' fuck from nine to five like this your job or I’ma trade ya |
| I won’t waste none of your time or mine, I’d rather chase some paper |
| Trappin' too hard in the hood, I’m gettin' complaints from all the neighbors |
| (Woo) |
| Like that young nigga too hot out here, he got so many flavors |
| I worked hard for what I got, so I won’t let no nigga take it (No) |
| Wock' mix with my phantom pop, it got me movin' like the matrix |
| Know this shit 1K 4L, see, we got millions on the table |
| .223 find our traces, cross that line and Fizzle face it (Boom) |
| (Shh, who’s that?) It’s the Cooter (Huh) |
| Grab the fork and twerk it, twist it, twirl it like some noodles (Woo, skrrt) |
| I’m a big dog, fuck I look like runnin' with some poodles? |
| You might think this was a pool hall, just look at all these shooters (Damn) |
| It’s a celebration, bitch, another trapper made it |
| My ho jealous, bruh, I think my plug even hatin' (Wow) |
| I’m tired of niggas fuckin' up, then cryin' 'cause they can’t pay me |
| They don’t know who did it, but the nigga family still hate me (What?) |
| You can’t tell us nothin', bitch (No), you see we made it out them trenches |
| In the game ballin' hard, bitch, we finally off them benches (Go) |
| The caption read, «We winnin',» with the trophy on the ending (Woo) |
| My girl jealous, say the Glock get more attention than extended (Go) |
| I can show you how to flip a fifty to a million (Yeah) |
| I got the Midas touch, they say I’m somethin' like a magician (Voilà) |
| I dropped the top, I’m chillin', now my car ain’t got no ceiling (Pew) |
| Don’t put your hands on Guwop or your limbs won’t have no feeling (Damn) |
| CEO 'bout business, it’s been blushin' 'bout this pendant |
| And you can’t work the brand unless you gon' stand on the business |
| I can’t take you serious, it’s all fiction in your lyrics (Damn) |
| Your rap so fuckin' cap, not even your partner wanna hear it (Wow) |
| Straight from Arkansas, just gave these young niggas a chance (Yeah) |
| And how you call them country when my young niggas got bands? |
| (Racks) |
| We ballin' in Miami, yeah, I’m rockin' with the clan (Go) |
| And I can’t do no dancin', all this money in my pants (Gucci) |
| Ha |