Lyrics Trappers Turn Rappers - YBS Skola, Don Q

Trappers Turn Rappers

I know I’m gon' make it off this rap shit
Me and my niggas can’t afford another tragic
If you run up boy, oh I’m gon' let you have it
Skola up now, I’ma hold it down
Smoke weed by the pound, sip lean by the four
Trappin' hard out the bando, got the gunman by the door
I just hit your girl inside the bando ‘til that pussy sore
Then I whacked 100 P’s and left residue on the floor
When I make it I’m going ham
Fuck ‘round get a Lam
I need me a big check like Tayvon on the Rams
I done sold coca, I done sold grams
I done cashed out on them chickens
I meant Uncle Sam
Soon as I got that bag, had to switch my swag
Don’t do no Giuseppe, I need Christian Loub’s
Look at my outfit, Saint Laurent, check out my shoes
Saint Laurent jeans bitch, cost me nine beans bitch
Every day we flexin', gotta keep that protection
Don’t need no security, we got our own protection
If you think ‘bout snatching somethin' hollows what you catching
NFL where I’m from, and Shinners what we reppin'
I know I’m gon' make it off this rap shit
Me and my niggas can’t afford another tragic
If you run up boy, oh I’m gon' let you have it
Skola up now, I’ma hold it down
Smoke weed by the pound, sip lean by the four
Trappin' hard out the bando, got the gunman by the door
I just hit your girl inside the bando ‘til that pussy sore
Then I whacked 100 P’s and left residue on the floor
I keep a cup full of red
I like to crush up my meds
I tell that bitch ‘fore you jump in the bed
I do not fuck without head
Two point five in the duffel
We made it happen, lil nigga you can’t imagine
Carty frames when the camera flashing
I jump off the back then I’m Fendi swaggin'
Pullin' whores, tell Skola bring twenty more
Press a button just to lift the door
Niggas drag him ‘til he hit the floor
I’m known to grab it ‘fore it hit the store, woah
I’m in the foreign with two hoes
Nigga fake Cubans, we don’t do those
I’m too cold, it’s more ‘cause the jewels froze
Perkys I chew those
I keep a knot on me nigga
Yeah that’s a lot on me nigga, yeah, yeah
You got a car on your wrist, well I got a lot on me nigga, yeah, yeah
Look what I got on me nigga
They wanna plot on me nigga
I sit that bag right on top of you nigga
Where catching a body is more like a hobby to niggas, gang
I know I’m gon' make it off this rap shit
Me and my niggas can’t afford another tragic
If you run up boy, oh I’m gon' let you have it
Skola up now, I’ma hold it down
Smoke weed by the pound, sip lean by the four
Trappin' hard out the bando, got the gunman by the door
I just hit your girl inside the bando ‘til that pussy sore
Then I whacked 100 P’s and left residue on the floor