A1MakeyouPay1 - How 2 Trap Lyrics

Yeah nigga, big eights bitch
Man aight

This is trap story how to drop and ship a load
First thing you gotta do is get yourself a f*cking pole
Gotta have a whip so you can bust them plays on the road
Better not be slippin' boy you better lock n load
It don't matter, Glock 19, or 17, they go boom

Get the bowls, weed and bricks, don't forget the shrooms
Don't ride along, bummy niggas they bafoons
On them big plays, you can ride around with your goons
Gotta put your stash in a trap, don't be a fool

Stop flexing all that shit on the gram with the tool
Hit my At, at the telegram with the dudes
You can tap in, trap four bills, then I guess we cool
Got the chop out the box, the glock extended too

I'ma tell you how I used to hit these plays with the tool
I hadda ride with a dirty scale, duckin' red and blue
Pshhh, duck that red and blue, bitch
Make sure the Glock is ready up the blow

When the play hop in the whip, up it on bro
Gotta tell them it's not a personal thing, its just how it go
When the nigga start cryin', then kick him out the door
What you finna do when your brother lost the damn load

If you really f*ckin' with him, slide it on the low
It don't matter where he go, just drop off the load
North, east, south or west, drop the addy we gone go
If you down bad, hit a lick on your f*ckin' opps

Better have the pole on you or you'll get popped
If you got a shit-ass grade in chemistry, it's all good
Bout to teach you how to fill some carts in the f*ckin' hood
One-stop shop up in Tempe Town Lake

Extra laboratories, boy you better book a date
Gotta get a press and the carts and a fill gun
Don't forget the turps, hella strains, don't spill none
Get the beaker and a liter and a f*ckin' heat pad

Cat three liters straight from Cali, yeah, you need that
That's that top-shelf quality shit, yeah, I feed that
Yup, alright, listen, man
Now you got all the shit you need to make some money

Don't pop out by the crib when you know you around some dummies
If you lockin' with the gang then you finna double your money

Best not post no dumb shit on snap, you finna get banned
Just like me, you finna have eight phones in your hand
I'm big eights in this bitch, take my pole I got these hands
Back to the trap lesson, you gotta get some white

If you wanna come home to an early profit tonight
Go and give your plug a ten-ball if he treat you right
Go and give the junkies a pill so they can take a flight
Aye you gotta duck them feds or they gone charge yo ass with tax evasion

Or your dumb ass will be in court answering their equation
Equation, equation, equation, equation
Equation, equation, equation, equation
Equation

You thought I was done, gotta slide to the funds
Gotta get all the pape, make them pay one with a gun
Gotta get all these bands, get your brothers out the slums
Now you know how the trap gon' move all them packs

Like I said from the jump, you better pack a damn gat
Might as well ride with two, cause the other got your back
When you get to the stacks, hit me up, I'll hit you back
You better not f*ck around, cause the money don't slack

When you got hella pape, thanks to me, I made you racks
F*ck what you heard or say, all I do is spit facts
Don't get punked by no fake trappers, all they do is cap
Now you know the moral of the story, how to f*cking trap