12k Slink - TROPHIES (feat. Stacc)

Trap never closed
Swinging doors
Slanging bowls
No 84s
Trynna stuff 11 bands in denim pocket by girbaud
Either way it go stick to the code
Just picked up me another load
He run into my section he gon leave here wit his body froze
Post office steady boomin I be shipping shit from coast to coast
It's only two ways Ima go it's not at all or do the most
Shark up in the water these niggas just trynna stay a float
All black gloves strap you won't like it when I'm in that mode
Stack gon get it crackin we be runnin Shìt throughout the state
Finesse the plug up out a quarter he shoulda seen the bills was fake
Swing around wit a delivery these bullets knockin thru his chest
PA trap bros X got the south I'm taking over for the west
4 Cameras monitor the screen I'm clutching onto every knock
Better get it for I it's gone they know I be running out of stock
My guns don't got a safety Locc Go 730 without a clock
Ima make his body Flop right after the glizzy Pop
GPS the package Ima hit u when it's supposed to drop
Don't ask me shit no bargaining don't hit me just to window shop
My girl be mad as fuck I ain't been home I'm posted at the spot
Can't fit wit the gang bitch my circle smaller than a dot
Ask me Where I'm headed ima have to tell you to the top
Nigga say he need more than a zip don't hit my phone meet at the spot
When this shit pay off I'm a go cop Vette pull off the lot
Tryna put da Rollie on my wrist and flood that bitch wit rocks
Hard to the core
Paper I need more
A eighth I'm finna pour
Big dripping in Dior
Caught that nigga slippin at the corner up the score
30 Rounds up in da Glock we spin I left wit 4
Beat da pussy up she grab ha phone tryna call PETA
Fire up the Russian where tha spark bro need da Nina
Gloves n mask on you can't see me John Cena
Makem draw the chalk I feel like walk da Benz or Beamer
Nigga talkn foul lil beeda puttem ona stretcher
Bro jumped up in the game but this is chest this shit ain't checkers
Lil homie brought his pack bitch fuck dat mid boa where the pressure
All these hoes surrounding me I'm feeling like Hugh Hefner
I just popped a addy I'm charged up just like a Tesla
She begging me for pipe I guess that mean I'm big finnesser
Fly dresser
Bitch my name ain't ash he lacking ima catch em
He do all dat flexing guess that bitch ain't never learned his lesson
RIP to Hefner RIP my nigga geezy
Aint no I in team but best believe dem niggas need me
She hit my phone again I swear dis lil hoe she be feigning
Up the strap won't ain't fa legs send shots at that boy beanie

Written by:
Blair Simon

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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