Trap Phone
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Lyrics
Leave that phone on the dresser when u riding mean Cuz that cell
tower ping and put you right on the scene It put you right on the
scene Nigga I need 5 or 10 minutes Meet me on
Venice They want a hunnit pack, plus my percentage.
You get life like?
Jennings?
For the phone call bidnezz This foul
mouth nigga need to go see the dentist.
Lame, apprentice I cook like a chemist No
trackin the brick phone, the wires is vintage.
The game a scrimmage You gotta?
Lieutenant The code name for good work is Cajun Spinach. __
Hey you got some more of those green t-shirts blood?__ Leave me be.
Hijack your phone and the EBT Bobbin and weaving Sucka duckin the F.
This nigga sending a text message talking bout,
"bring me three" __aye,
I'ma hit you on your burner__ For real my nigga?
You workin wit them folks for a deal my nigga?
That's why you on the streets, ain't never post bail my nigga.
You tryna line a nigga up to share a cell my nigga?
Got knots in my hand Nobody wanna wait patiently When
they comin wit that reckless talk, shit be amazin me.
When I answer my line, There's clicks, echoes, and latency.
So I dont trust nan nigga, could be workin for the agency.
All you hot niggas leave me alone If
you talking money, Hit me on my trap phone.
Hit me on my trap phone.
Hit me on my trap phone Hot niggas leave me
alone If you talking money, Hit me on my trap phone.
Can I get a key for the 3-oh?
Got my line gettin recorded like a co But when they come
you be crying like a 3year old Man I'm too fuckin on for a P.
O.
Stay sharp, dont fuck around.
Hot nigga on his way about to take us all down.
While he shinin thru the town,
But he talking like a witness Might be a hustla,
but bitch I'ma businesssss And I ain't bout to let you
shut me down Had my cell phone reverbin like surround sound.
So I change numbers like I change bitches
Cuz hot niggas I know, most became snitches.
Blowin money fast what you tryna do (
BMF) That bring more feds, silly you.
Keep tryna be a rock star, And you'll be holdin down p.
o.
p.
in the back of a cop car Got knots in my hand Nobody wanna wait
patiently When they comin wit that reckless talk, shit be amazin me.
When I answer my line, There's clicks, echoes, and latency.
So I dont trust nan nigga, could be workin for the agency.
All you hot niggas leave me alone If
you talking money, Hit me on my trap phone.
Hit me on my trap phone.
Hit me on my trap phone Hot niggas leave me
alone If you talking money, Hit me on my trap phone.
I never fuck wit this nigga, but he want in.
Now he tappin my line sayin he want ten.
Say I served this nigga, and he come spend,
When he walk out, I'm wondering who gon walk in.
See these new breed niggas wasnt coached like we
was, High off syrup, molly, coke, and weed buzz.
Back door niggas, double agents and all that.
Told him hit me round 4, at 4 o'clock, he called back.
And not 4:18, nigga, 4 on the dot.
And if you know like I know, Nigga that's the cops.
On time, every time, tryna line me up,
I guess they caught him with a bag, and they signed him up.
But see, I know about this dude from some cats he leaked
on, And these the type of niggas that you just dont speak on.
But ima fluff your pillow, give you something to sleep on.
Look out when you're on that T-R-A-P phone Got knots in my hand
Nobody wanna wait patiently When they
comin wit that reckless talk, shit be amazin me.
When I answer my line, There's clicks, echoes, and latency.
So I dont trust nan nigga, could be workin for the agency.
All you hot niggas leave me alone If
you talking money, Hit me on my trap phone.
Hit me on my trap phone.
Hit me on my trap phone Hot niggas leave me
alone If you talking money, Hit me on my trap phone.