Prezzley P'll get you popped, nigga
(Get your ass popped, boy)
It's too many fakes 'round, ayy
Nigga, we don't play
This ain't the playground
Ayy, two hundred shots wrapped in duct tape
What can you say now?
I stay far away from Henry County
That's like the jake town
Ayy, I swear to God I'm
Gone on these bitches, I can't wait 'round
My whole objective was to eat
I'm fillin' up my plate now
I got thirty bucks inside these Amiri
Jeans and I just skate 'round
Ayy, ayy, ayy, and if your bitch an opp
Might gun your date down
Glock to your face, open the safe, nigga
Lay down fifty bricks to Birmingham
Alabama off the Greyhound
I took them sticks straight up to
Chiraq and then I stayed 'round
Uh, I'm ready for another break-in
Took my gate down
Take a look at that boy face
He know I might jump his gate
Glock-19, might catch a case
These some Fendi sweatpants on my waist
I'm just gon' call Prezzley, that's my ace
Ayy, I don't f*ck no more, but I f*cked Tay
And I can't calm her down
That bitch too crazy
She still got my BMI check, pay me
They say that C4 be talkin' crazy
2013, Grady baby
I ain't seen Stunna in a long time
Came a long way from blue Mercedes
I took his bitch, swallowed my babies
I'm rich, her boyfriend hook up cable
Too many thick horses in my stable
I'm Cain and Big 4 just like Abel
You see me flexin', it make you angry
Huh, how can you blame me?
Regular to you, but to Camp Creek
I'm just like Jay-Z
And it don't matter, whatever club I'm in
This bitch finna get rainy
You couldn't even see my
Brothers on that tape, That footage grainy
Ayy, he think C4 a pussy
He might try to stain me
Pour a four of Wock' and smoke
A pound of these exotic strainsies
And I had a bitch
But all my bitches thought they
Was gon' change me
Nigga, you know I trap them bags from
Washington Road all the way to Chamblee
It's too many fakes 'round, ayy
Nigga, we don't play
This ain't the playground
Ayy, two hundred shots wrapped in duct tape
What can you say now?
I stay far away from Henry County
That's like the jake town
Ayy, I swear to God I'm
Gone on these bitches, I can't wait 'round
My whole objective was to eat
I'm fillin' up my plate now
I got thirty bucks inside these Amiri
Jeans and I just skate 'round
Ayy, ayy, ayy, and if your bitch an opp
Might gun your date down
You gotta go crazy, you gotta
You know? You know?
Yeah, for sure, you just, you know, you just
You know?
You get near, you gotta go crazy, you gotta
You know?
You know, it don't be no, no handout
Niggas don't be try to do no favors
Niggas be hatin'
Niggas don't want nobody to go
Harder than them or go, or go
You know? Get bigger than them
So you gon' learn this shit
These niggas be crazy
As hell, you just gotta go crazy yourself
Though like don't depend on them, don't
Ask no nigga for
You know what I'm sayin'?
Like if that shit happen
Let that shit happen, Though
But these niggas gettin', that
Shit, this shit gettin', Gettin' different
Like these niggas Jackson, Peaches
And everything like that
You know? It's gettin' different
This shit gettin', this shit
This shit a fool
CEO Trayle - Hell Date Lyrics
CEO Trayle - Hell Date Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
English
Prezzley P'll get you popped, nigga
(Get your ass popped, boy)
It's too many fakes 'round, ayy
Nigga, we don't play
This ain't the playground
Ayy, two hundred shots wrapped in duct tape
What can you say now?
I stay far away from Henry County
That's like the jake town
Ayy, I swear to God I'm
Gone on these bitches, I can't wait 'round
My whole objective was to eat
I'm fillin' up my plate now
I got thirty bucks inside these Amiri
Jeans and I just skate 'round
Ayy, ayy, ayy, and if your bitch an opp
Might gun your date down
Glock to your face, open the safe, nigga
Lay down fifty bricks to Birmingham
Alabama off the Greyhound
I took them sticks straight up to
Chiraq and then I stayed 'round
Uh, I'm ready for another break-in
Took my gate down
Take a look at that boy face
He know I might jump his gate
Glock-19, might catch a case
These some Fendi sweatpants on my waist
I'm just gon' call Prezzley, that's my ace
Ayy, I don't f*ck no more, but I f*cked Tay
And I can't calm her down
That bitch too crazy
She still got my BMI check, pay me
They say that C4 be talkin' crazy
2013, Grady baby
I ain't seen Stunna in a long time
Came a long way from blue Mercedes
I took his bitch, swallowed my babies
I'm rich, her boyfriend hook up cable
Too many thick horses in my stable
I'm Cain and Big 4 just like Abel
You see me flexin', it make you angry
Huh, how can you blame me?
Regular to you, but to Camp Creek
I'm just like Jay-Z
And it don't matter, whatever club I'm in
This bitch finna get rainy
You couldn't even see my
Brothers on that tape, That footage grainy
Ayy, he think C4 a pussy
He might try to stain me
Pour a four of Wock' and smoke
A pound of these exotic strainsies
And I had a bitch
But all my bitches thought they
Was gon' change me
Nigga, you know I trap them bags from
Washington Road all the way to Chamblee
It's too many fakes 'round, ayy
Nigga, we don't play
This ain't the playground
Ayy, two hundred shots wrapped in duct tape
What can you say now?
I stay far away from Henry County
That's like the jake town
Ayy, I swear to God I'm
Gone on these bitches, I can't wait 'round
My whole objective was to eat
I'm fillin' up my plate now
I got thirty bucks inside these Amiri
Jeans and I just skate 'round
Ayy, ayy, ayy, and if your bitch an opp
Might gun your date down
You gotta go crazy, you gotta
You know? You know?
Yeah, for sure, you just, you know, you just
You know?
You get near, you gotta go crazy, you gotta
You know?
You know, it don't be no, no handout
Niggas don't be try to do no favors
Niggas be hatin'
Niggas don't want nobody to go
Harder than them or go, or go
You know? Get bigger than them
So you gon' learn this shit
These niggas be crazy
As hell, you just gotta go crazy yourself
Though like don't depend on them, don't
Ask no nigga for
You know what I'm sayin'?
Like if that shit happen
Let that shit happen, Though
But these niggas gettin', that
Shit, this shit gettin', Gettin' different
Like these niggas Jackson, Peaches
And everything like that
You know? It's gettin' different
This shit gettin', this shit
This shit a fool
(Get your ass popped, boy)
It's too many fakes 'round, ayy
Nigga, we don't play
This ain't the playground
Ayy, two hundred shots wrapped in duct tape
What can you say now?
I stay far away from Henry County
That's like the jake town
Ayy, I swear to God I'm
Gone on these bitches, I can't wait 'round
My whole objective was to eat
I'm fillin' up my plate now
I got thirty bucks inside these Amiri
Jeans and I just skate 'round
Ayy, ayy, ayy, and if your bitch an opp
Might gun your date down
Glock to your face, open the safe, nigga
Lay down fifty bricks to Birmingham
Alabama off the Greyhound
I took them sticks straight up to
Chiraq and then I stayed 'round
Uh, I'm ready for another break-in
Took my gate down
Take a look at that boy face
He know I might jump his gate
Glock-19, might catch a case
These some Fendi sweatpants on my waist
I'm just gon' call Prezzley, that's my ace
Ayy, I don't f*ck no more, but I f*cked Tay
And I can't calm her down
That bitch too crazy
She still got my BMI check, pay me
They say that C4 be talkin' crazy
2013, Grady baby
I ain't seen Stunna in a long time
Came a long way from blue Mercedes
I took his bitch, swallowed my babies
I'm rich, her boyfriend hook up cable
Too many thick horses in my stable
I'm Cain and Big 4 just like Abel
You see me flexin', it make you angry
Huh, how can you blame me?
Regular to you, but to Camp Creek
I'm just like Jay-Z
And it don't matter, whatever club I'm in
This bitch finna get rainy
You couldn't even see my
Brothers on that tape, That footage grainy
Ayy, he think C4 a pussy
He might try to stain me
Pour a four of Wock' and smoke
A pound of these exotic strainsies
And I had a bitch
But all my bitches thought they
Was gon' change me
Nigga, you know I trap them bags from
Washington Road all the way to Chamblee
It's too many fakes 'round, ayy
Nigga, we don't play
This ain't the playground
Ayy, two hundred shots wrapped in duct tape
What can you say now?
I stay far away from Henry County
That's like the jake town
Ayy, I swear to God I'm
Gone on these bitches, I can't wait 'round
My whole objective was to eat
I'm fillin' up my plate now
I got thirty bucks inside these Amiri
Jeans and I just skate 'round
Ayy, ayy, ayy, and if your bitch an opp
Might gun your date down
You gotta go crazy, you gotta
You know? You know?
Yeah, for sure, you just, you know, you just
You know?
You get near, you gotta go crazy, you gotta
You know?
You know, it don't be no, no handout
Niggas don't be try to do no favors
Niggas be hatin'
Niggas don't want nobody to go
Harder than them or go, or go
You know? Get bigger than them
So you gon' learn this shit
These niggas be crazy
As hell, you just gotta go crazy yourself
Though like don't depend on them, don't
Ask no nigga for
You know what I'm sayin'?
Like if that shit happen
Let that shit happen, Though
But these niggas gettin', that
Shit, this shit gettin', Gettin' different
Like these niggas Jackson, Peaches
And everything like that
You know? It's gettin' different
This shit gettin', this shit
This shit a fool
Writer: JONOAH MARTEZ PRESSLEY, JUSTIN BELL
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave