Hey now, don't reach for that stick
Cheecho on the beat, I feel like the shit
White plug keep callin' me "Prick"
Spin a bin, an Apple Watch on my fit
BMW, ridin' 'round with a stick
We know he don't trap, yeah, he finally admits
I call up Kaydoo, we gon' slime for his brick
Like, why you rappin' in your lines that you spit?
If it ain't you and me, then it's my .223
Got an Off White belt with a stick in my jeans
I bet I seen a dog that you never seen
Bad bih', hell yeah, she mean
I slide on an opp and I score
Bad bih' lookin' like Regina George
I'm movin' weight like I'm workin' on my core
I feel like O-Dog when he walked in that store
I got a chopper, let it sing like a chorus
I'm the trapper of the year, I might go to Morgan
Where you at, Goon? Pass me the .40
I was backdoorin' 'cause I was down poorly
I had to trap to buy my first pair of Jordans
Ouu, it's rainin', it's pourin'
I learn the recipe, you don't know my source
Get a bop up, might hit if you torch
95, my grandfather in Lorton
Forgive me for my sins, I pray to the Lord
You a cappin' nigga, you ain't hop out the porch
Real trap nigga, put a hole in a fool seal
Pull up in a U-Haul, I could probably put a horse in it
Might slide in a coupe, beep the horn, put your daughter in
In a real trap house, upstairs, no floor in it, yeah
Hey now, don't reach for that stick
Cheecho on the beat, I feel like the shit
White plug keep callin' me "Prick"
Spin a bin, an Apple Watch on my fit
BMW, ridin' 'round with a stick
We know he don't trap, yeah, he finally admits
I call up Kaydoo, we gon' slime for his brick
Like, why you rappin' in your lines that you spit?