| A couple grand, price tag on your head — leave you layin where you stand
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| A couple grand, price tag on your head — on your head, on your head
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| A couple grand, price tag on your head — price tag on your head
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| A couple grand, price tag on your head — leave you layin where you stand
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| Watch him die slow, then his eyes roll (uhh)
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| In the back of his head, now his body cold (uhh)
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| A couple grand, a couple shots
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| Couple drip drops, now your leakin won’t stop
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| Bitch I’m the man just ask Block
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| Shots rang out, you could hear 'em for a couple blocks (*gun firing*)
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| Bitch what’s my name, call me Yung Joc
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| I got a great aim all I need is one shot
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| Everybody talkin in my nieghborhood (maaan)
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| I got great lawyers cause my paper good (yeah)
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| Leave your body riddled, wheezin and coughin
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| Here your body lye, box five in monica coffin
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| You fuck with mine, I’ll cross ya life line
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| I’m a graffiti artist, paint chalk outlines
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| And the worst part (what it is) — is I’m not a coward
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| Visit your wait and give your momma dead flowers
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| Yeah Joc I got this one for ya homie
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| Let me get at this bitch, Assholes By Nature
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| I been sittin a second, but now I’m back for the drama
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| So tell that pussy nigga, he headed for trauma
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| You’d rather slap ya momma, 'fore you come fuckin with Trae
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| Homie I’m 'Tha Truth’and I get in that ass with no delay
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| Penitentaries, to cities, and ghettos I got it locked
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| I’m ABN go check the trunk (*schreeching tires*)I bet I’m fully stocked
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| I’m so deep in the streets — I started and ain’t never gon’stop
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| And fuck a (*reversed*)bitch, ya’ll make sure ya’ll rotate in the box
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| It ain’t no greetin through the lines, I spitt it clear as day
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| Niggas gay, plus it’s understood you get it — how you play
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| I call the shots around my way, I’m that nigga in charge
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| And fuck the talk, you better see me with an entourage
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| [Verse 3 — Yung Joc)
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| This is not a movie (cut) — no re runs
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| All sells final, no refunds
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| Once I make the payment, the hits out
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| I’m not Jeezy — I ain’t swappin shit out (that's right)
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| First I tell 'em (what you tell 'em?) — where I want it done (where you want it?
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| In the back yard, right in front of his son (*screaming*)
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| Then I tell 'em (what you tell 'em) — where to drop him off
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| In the Chattahoochie with his dick chopped off (damn)
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| Yeah it sounds harsh, but it’s well deserved
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| Feed his ass to the sharks, for Our’dueuvres
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| No remorse, no pity
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| This could happen to you in New Joc City
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| Before the day I want this bitch knocked the fuck off the globe
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| While I’m posted inside my crib, in a Hoover blue robe
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| It’s Lil’Boss, I send my villans to seek an elobe
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| Dumpin a few, makin these niggas hop fences like toads
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| Better practice what they be preechin when fuckin with me
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| I introduce yo’ass to hell when fuckin with me
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| I got some niggas that’ll go do the job for free
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| You lose yo’life when tryna mob in the streets like me
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| Any action you niggas takin need to discipline
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| You bangin with a Hoover gang criminal, bitch you listenin (ya heard me)
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| Price tag on your head, rice bag for the lead
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| Bitch niggas gon’get it the right way, cause it’s a code red
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| I gotta couple grand for any nigga that want it
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| You shouldn’t have started, now you done got me up on it
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| See I got niggas from the West, all the way to fifth ward
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| I’m Hoover crippin, I got Blood’s and B. D's in my squad
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| It’s Jay’Ton nigga and now I’m set trippin
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| It’s A.B.N you better chill before you come up missin
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| They call me Tarzan bitch cause I run with guerillas
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| I’m certified my older brother Dinkie was a killer
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| I’m Slow Loud to the Bang, and I bang to the left
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| You violate me and I swear I’m gon’bang to the death (BOW)
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| And it’s a damn shame, but I’m playin it dirty
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| I’m barely twenty, fuck nigga you damn near out ya thirties
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| I gotta couple killers, down in pre — trial
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| Put glass in your food, you shit — your guts leak out
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| The sheriff call your mother and she freak out (*crying*)
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| Got her hittin member up, got him on speed dial
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| Ooh it ain’t nothin, but a call away
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| Come home find, your baby sister in the hallway
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| 9 — 1 — 1, but it’s too late
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| She lookin like a maxi pad, bleedin through the duct tape
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| — repeat 'til end |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Couple Grand, artist - Trae. Album song Tha Truth Show - Street Edition, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп