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Trifecta
Boldy James, Nicholas Craven & 50 Gwuap Taj feat. Dave Hill
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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Turnt the fuck up, burnt the fuck out
Swervin' off a fuckin' burnout
Cup is purple as a turnip
Pull up, serve you, then I skrrt out
Got some fire in the presser
I'm just waitin' on the turnout
Work I got speak for itself
Like I can barely get the word out
Woke the fuck up, got the fuck out
Grabbed the slugger out the dugout
In my lane, don't hit a blinker
Make a turn, see how it turn out
Fucked around and threw a roach out
Pullin' out my brother Turp house
Dumpin' cookies like I'm burn out
I'm the reason LA burned down
For the guys, I pour the syrup out
Duck and dodge in front of jump out
Trap forever, I prefer not
Glock tucked, that's why my shirt out
By northwest and turn left by Vermont
Nextel, and they was lettin' it chirp out
James Cole, they was lettin' that hearse out
Tell him, "Crash" and I bet he'll swerve out
In and out, left a nest at the bird house
Third block on the left is the first house
Every play is a first down
When I get a new bag and I ditch the workout
That nigga ran off, he in the church now
Drive Rolls, bring the Vert out
Bitch, she turnt up, really turned down
With her garbage pussy and her dirt mouth
Lemon-yellow Lamborghinis
Skatin' Kristi Yamaguchi
Shooters lookin' for a leadin' role
We 'bout to drop a movie
Big shifter, turn to tan cream
Hit a Michigan uey
In the kitchen mixin' Scooby
Kick-flippin' like I'm Tunechi
It's two-seven after I check the deucey
Bust your head
If you fuckin' with my brother Mooch
Somethin' like I'm Lil Meechie
It broke my heart that that bitch fuck with goofies
Is she stupid?
Now I'm chipped up like it's bingo
Thumbin' through a dub of blueys
Ten bricks of that Primo
I been pinchin' like a jingle
If I send him, Rip Van Winkle
He gon' chip you like a Pringle
Don't pretend it's a hit single
He gon' hit it with a needle
I'ma hit it for my people
A gorilla when it's needed
I want marble on my countertops
Cathedral on my ceilings
And merceau in a deposit box
An iron just to crease it
Hundred thousand on two pieces
I ain't tryna ride no leases
Windows tinted five percent
But my Sprite look kinda pinkish
I'm movin' slow, they want the speed
Sip my cup and roll some weed
I tripled up, then poured a three
I'm skrrtin' off, pull up low-key
Gelato-scented potpourri
Extra plated overeat
Salaam alaikum, 'bout this bacon
Hit his egg, it's over-easy
Put his face all on the tee
He left the ghetto o' and three
Did it with no skis
So niggas can't help but to notice me
Find a new spot, take it over
Let me hold the key
Ridin' dirty, but the work clean
I got OCD
Lemon-yellow Lamborghinis
Skatin' Kristi Yamaguchi
Shooters lookin' for a leadin' role
We 'bout to drop a movie
Big shifter, turn to tan cream
Hit a Michigan uey
In the kitchen mixin' Scooby
Kick-flippin' like I'm Tunechi
It's two-seven after I check the deucey
Bust your head
If you fuckin' with my brother Mooch
Somethin' like I'm Lil Meechie
It broke my heart that that bitch fuck with goofies
Is she stupid?
Now I'm chipped up like it's bingo
Thumbin' through a dub of blueys
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