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Current Song
BOOL (feat. Trippie Redd, Mozzy, YG)
Chris King & Traphouse Ryan
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TraphouseRyan Who they want? Who they want? Who they want? TraphouseRyan, time ****ing my niggas Hold up, ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh Ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh Hold up, you can't bool with us, no-oh Uh, uh, you can't bool with us, no-oh Oil in the Fanta, double digits in the blammer Blickys over jammers, niggas I do that shit on camera Cookie package when I'm landin', in Atlanta smokin' good On the hood I came from nothing, niggas blew up off a jugg All my uncle 'nem the plug, used to bag up fifty dubs I'm addicted to these drugs, body itchin' off the mud I'm out here tweakin' with my thugs, niggas kill you over crumbs Grab the cherry handkerchief, my jit fillin' up a drum ****** you talkin' 'bout it, Mozzy get it poppin' in these slums Popular with these pistols, shotters pop you up for nothin' Nookie hundreds I'm just thumbin', multiplyin' blue bundles Niggas promise not to fumble, get money, remain humble Hold up, ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh Ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh Hold up, you can't bool with us, no-oh Uh, uh, you can't bool with us, no-oh I be ****ing niggas our way, I be grindin', that's a must I be rollin' blunts and boppin' pists 'cause I do what I want And I know your bitches been on my line but I will not get front And she know that I been gettin' all of my shit from the jump Ayy-oh-ayy-oh, take you out the hood like veggie Make sure you roll my Backwoods fat baby Always sippin' on the lean, act good now ready Smokin' on the weed, that ayy-oh-ayy-oh Hopin' that a nigga don't get out of pocket Before a young nigga have to go and call up Rocket He tell me mash on it, get to pimpin' and poppin' And ****ing up the penthouse, we was runnin' the lobby instead Oh you mother****ers runnin' out of your bread Guillotine with these rapper's ass, off with they head Everybody wanna win for it but everybody act scared Don't be hittin' up my line, do you **** with the feds? I be sippin' on drink 'til I flatline Fishscale, the Benz back tied These old rappers sound mad tired Her pussy wet, it get baptized, whoa Hold up, snotty, you can't bool with us, no-oh Ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh Hold up, you can't bool with us, no-oh Uh, uh, you can't bool with us, no-oh You can't bool with us, you ain't bool enough You ain't movin' nothin', you ain't shootin' nothin' You ain't toolied up ****in' I'm uchied up, my bitches bougie as ****, bitch She only doin' Uber Vista, XL Uber truck JP fitted, be havin' Bar Town to Lenox My video shoots be like Pyru conventions Can't bool, ain't no convincin', You don't know 'bout Missy's Kitchen Niggas' fingers wasn't twisted, Niggas' pistols wasn't whistlin' Never dough, you wasn't whippin' You was scared, you kept ****ing But now you want to bool to look bool, bitch you trippin' They see the diamonds glisten, they know we ****in' wicked They know we got the juice, whatever we say niggas gon' listen T's, P's, and B's, oh my Come clean, we slidin' on God Twenty on his head, niggas why not I'm the nigga with the bag on 400 block T's, P's, and B's, oh my Come clean, we slidin' on God Twenty on his head, niggas why not I'm the nigga with the bag on 400 block Hold up, snotty, you can't bool with us, no-oh Ayy, you can't bool with us, no-oh Hold up, you can't bool with us, no-oh Uh, uh, you can't bool with us, no-oh
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