Skilla Baby and BossMan Dlow - Booby Trap

(MIA JAY C)
Ha
(I hear you, JAY C)
Ha, ha

Huh, in that Maybach I be feelin' like Rick Ross, baby (baby)
She can tell I'm gettin' money when I talk, baby (ha)
Leave yo' purse at home, you fuckin' with a boss, baby (a boss, baby)
Let's go to the mall, get what you want, fuck what it cost, baby (fuck what it cost, baby)
I'm in the yams at Booby Trap havin' a ball (havin' a ball)
They know I don't give a fuck 'bout crashin' out at all (ha)
I fuck with niggas, I just ain't fuckin' with y'all (ain't fuckin' with y'all)
My young niggas quick to slide on shit 'cause they do fraud (bah)

Pockets full of dog shit, they think I got the drip, baby (yeah)
VVS's hittin', look like I play for the Mets, baby (bling)
Trap nigga, we got everything on deck, baby (brrt)
I ain't mean to cut you off, but cut my check, baby, huh (beep, beep)
Quarter million dollar car, I'm drivin' like this Fast and Furious (vroom)
Pull off in a presidential, push up, Lamborghini Urus
Two hundred on the dash, I pray I don't wreck out (nigga)
We ain't toleratin' no pussy shit, get a nigga X'd out (nigga)
'Cause that pussy-ass, police-ass shit ain't in me
Come here, bae, stop playin' games with me
Everybody with me eatin' like this Thanksgiving (yeah)
Get it if you want it, baby, you know I ain't trippin' (get it, bae)
Get it if you want it, we don't care nothin' 'bout the cost, bae
Pull up in that Maybach, I be feelin' like I'm Ross, bae
Come fuck with a winner, we eat hundred dollar dinners, baby (come here, baby)
I'm speedin' in traffic, screamin', "Ah" like I'm Skilla, baby (yeah, Big Za)

Huh, in that Maybach I be feelin' like Rick Ross, baby (baby)
She can tell I'm gettin' money when I talk, baby (ha)
Leave yo' purse at home, you fuckin' with a boss, baby (a boss, baby)
Let's go to the mall, get what you want, fuck what it cost, baby (fuck what it cost, baby)
I'm in the yams at Booby Trap havin' a ball (havin' a ball)
They know I don't give a fuck 'bout crashin' out at all (ha)
I fuck with niggas, I just ain't fuckin' with y'all (ain't fuckin' with y'all)
My young niggas quick to slide on shit 'cause they do fraud (bah)

Bitch, I'm the biggest, a money gettin' nigga (nigga)
Two hundred on a Richie (ha), them other nigga finished, huh (finished)
I can run five hundred thousand up so fast (frrt)
Nigga, shut yo' poor ass mouth with yo' broke ass (ha)
These Chanel shoes these ain't no Huraches (no Huraches)
I ran so much dog shit up servin' aunties (servin' autie)
I'm eatin' a thousand dollar steak, I'm at Papi's (I'm at Papi's)
Fresh enough to pose for the frame, Ricky Bobby (ha)

Huh, in that Maybach I be feelin' like Rick Ross, baby (baby)
She can tell I'm gettin' money when I talk, baby (ha)
Leave yo' purse at home, you fuckin' with a boss, baby (a boss, baby)
Let's go to the mall, get what you want, fuck what it cost, baby (fuck what it cost, baby)
I'm in the yams at Booby Trap havin' a ball (havin' a ball)
They know I don't give a fuck 'bout crashin' out at all (ha)
I fuck with niggas, I just ain't fuckin' with y'all (ain't fuckin' with y'all)
My young niggas quick to slide on shit 'cause they do fraud (bah)

Written by:
Devante McCreary, Joshua White, Trevon Gardner

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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