Trippin

Big body ridin round
Dodgin potholes

Niggas tryna watch my chips
These is nachos

Real bag on me nigga
This do not fold

Designer jeans on my bitch
It’s a wide load

When you second guess the plans
It get critical

This Nina have em breathing heavy
Like a physical

Oh u can ride it on beat?
U got rhythm boo

Detach his head from his neck
Blood squirting like it’s lemon juice

My niggs ain’t into talkin
They gone pull up and come finish u

If u interfere we spin the block
And then come get u too

I do airthang might rock a show
And take the pictures too

Ima hit the puss then ask the bitch
Like what u finna do

Hmm

Lil bitch I’m bag chasin
Ion answer when on that road because my mind racin

20 ball fresh off da road
Might spend it all today

This nigga laughed and said I’m dumb
Cuz he ain’t gettin cake

This shit light
If he need a 10 I’m Inda next flight

Throwing back these shots
And every cheers we yelling more life

She’s fairytale

And u in love
Bet She still gone take pipe

The way I’m slidin
See the judge and he gone give life

You prolly told

Check his paper work
His words was hoppin like a fuckin toad

When I need a pack I hit jabari
He gone send a load

If u say u need it and u cat
Don’t call again cuz ima say it sold

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Don’t cat off den call again nigga ima say it’s sold since u wastin time den niggas say I’m trippin I ain’t trippin I ain’t trippin nigga it’s still gone get gone

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They say im trippin
Cuz when I rock my chain im to da neck
Like I ain’t gotta pistol

Next year im backin out
In foreigns all my niggas tourin

Stack Inda safe can’t trust a bank
Cuz they a steal it from me

When it fall down
I pick the pieces up

Postin guns onda net
Yeah dey jus playin tough

Ain’t none of dat

Make her throw it back
Like ima runnin back

Boosie wipe me down im on her back
Like Fuck a kyla Pratt

No 1 on 1s
Beat that niggas ass he ran and got a gun

Now his mother crying
Cuz she miss her son

Man fuck all dat

I’m choppin hoes
Like ima lumberjack

Playin wit my chips
And u get dipped go tell his mother that

Das suicide - dough let em out
Cuz he ain’t down to ride

Always lookin sad
Baby bird I jus wanna fly

It’s levels tho
Like 30 ladders

Go straight to heaven hoe
Bari told me to trip

So I’m trippin hoe
Let me loose

Been drinking don
U was on grey goose

But late nights I be off remy
Like I’m papoose

Dis bitch a bum ain’t no hittin that
It ain’t no excuse

You gone come in second Everytime
Like a ground rule