Lyrics Contraband - Migos

Contraband

Trap shit
Narcotics
This for my niggas in the trap selling.
Contraband, contraband, contraband
Contraband, contraband, contraband
Trap house, it don’t even matter, or the bando, everybody cook it up
Contraband
Narcotic, narcotic, narcotic
Narcotic, narcotic, narcotic
Dope boys right now on the block
Running up numbers, young nigga don’t need a wallet
Dope boy, dope boy, dope boy
When a nigga growed up wanna be a dope boy
Mom bust in, caught me counting money
«Say you better not be dealing that coke boy»
Got caught up in breaking them houses
First time a young nigga seen 1000
Then I went and copped my Audi
Then I had a meeting with a plug on a mountain
The plug start frowning
Cause I needed 1000 ounces
Why you needed 1000 ounces
Cause my young nigga finna go snatch 'em
Plug, gotta tax em
Calling the plug for ransom
Rich nigga pull up in Phantoms
Trapping the nicks, flipping them nicks
Young nigga I’m walking with cannon
My bitch got the dope in her panties
You too dramatic
All of my niggas go money savage
Bricks in the Hummer, it’s automatic
Contraband contraband contraband
Take down one hundred birds, I’m a country man
The plug is talking Español, I understand
Throwing a brick like Randall Cunningham
J’s they love me cause I got good customer service
I live in the trap so sometimes I be nervous
Get rich or die trying like Curtis
The trap concession stand, get you a slurpy
You obviously never been in a trap (never ever)
We shortage you, you ain’t get money back
Beating the pot Mortal Kombat, Jax
Brick big as hell, hit it with the axe
The gas is Ricky and you need some Act
The stove don’t work just use a match
I’m fucking your bitch, she a nat nat
You don’t Panamera, got a hatchback
Customer customer I am a hustler
I got candy Reese’s Buttercup
Offset is worth 10 million plus
Touch down the plug, then drop a rope
Contraband narcotic narcotic
Contraband contraband narcotic contraband
Contraband narcotic contraband contraband
Smoking OG’s from Afghanistan
I got the candy, they call me the Candy-Man
Bands can’t fit in a rubber band
No football, I’m walking with thigh pads
Baking soda with the water
Stove on, throw the dope in a fire pan
Pick up the spatula, I’m the ambassador
Audi, like a tarantula
Making moves, spectacular
Beating the dope with the stick and it’s magical
I set the block off and it’s epical
For America, fucking register
Can’t fuck wit you niggas, too skeptical
Undercover, you work with the federals
OG, got bags and it’s medical
Work in my bando
Got cookies they edible
Stretching the work it’s incredible
Pull up on the plug so I can go pick up some