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作词 : Bryson Lashun Potts/Jose Luis Reynoso-Contreras
作曲 : Bryson Lashun Potts/Jose Luis Reynoso-Contreras
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
T-t-t-t-t-think we found a loophole
Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm
**** up in my trap
Who the **** up in my trap?
Who the **** up in my trap?
Who the **** up in my trap?
Who the **** is in my trap, man
Who the ****, ayy (Ayy)
Who the **** outside my trap?
Say you wanna cop a gram
Bitch, you better cop a pint, or an ounce, or a hail
He said he ain't tryna cop, rob his ass, strip him down
We gon' take his car, have him on the grey hounds
You don't have to be accurate when you got a hunnid rounds
Bullets hit the back of his neck, put his face up in the ground
We got a hundred shots, I bet his body drop, I made him milly rock
Servin' beef up in this bitch like Felix, shottas as we get to drop
Put one up in the head, before I do that dirt, ain't got a cop
The choppa bullets rip the dread's bloods, leakin' on his locks
We shot at shit, you know I'm General
We don't care where you at, bitch, you know we finish you
They say, "Lil' choppa brang what?" How them niggas know it's you?
No, don't you hop up in my car, 'cause you know it's murder fool, yeah, yeah
Catch me in the trap wit' two Dracos up in my lap
And I got fiends runnin' out that want the crack like Bobby Brown
I had a shootout, seen his body drop
And all this shit went really fun
I don't know about you, thug
But I really love my guns
You see this twenty six? Gotta switch it and they can hold the drum
Play a Glizzy automatic, yeah, you know it's redrum
Tryna sell Choppa a strap? Ayy he gon' take your gun
He see me out and try to get me down, I slapped him wit' my palm
I blow exotic, dope, exotic, gas you know it keep me calm
We never stop until we see the police come
He see me got to shakin', so I know that nigga scared of us
Left blood up on the scene, but I don't think the scene was red enough
We while I use the same gun
He ain't make it to the doctor, bitch it's DOA up in this gun
up in this gun
I dropped the opp, I made him
Who the **** outside my trap?
Say you wanna cop a gram
Bitch, you better cop a pint, or an ounce, or a hail
He said he ain't tryna cop, rob his ass, strip him down
We gon' take his car, have him on the grey hounds
You don't have to be accurate when you got a hunnid rounds
Bullets hit the back of his neck, put his face up in the ground, yeah, yeah
Nigga, NLE the Top Shotta
I bet I pop him, bet I send him to the doctor, bitch (Who?)
Huh, yeah, you know we on that shotta shit
Hit it, ain't no politics, bruh, you get hit then (Who the **** is, who the **** is)
Uh, uh, no cap
(Who the **** is)
(Who the **** is)
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