They gotta problem with big gray hop out on feet and get in mode
Just like the ig gray two solid I stick to code won't never fold
Remember days me and the bros up in the free
U want some bread get on ya feet
I swear to God he diss on H he D-I-E I'm living life kick up my feet and press record
Tell me how the f*ck you get it chances left
And right but still ain't f*cking scored Cause when I see you best believe we got
An issue F*ck round make your mama cry she need some tissue
She ain't know her baby boy what's up online
Pressin' the issue
Five five six and A-R-P's ripped through your skin it ain't gon' miss you
Me and the bros we too official with it
The city bitches
Drop it low soon as I f*ck she out the door I'm in the kitchen whippin' dough
I'm makin' too much of a mess after I'm done mop up the floor
I smoke the za to ezz the pain with shit I deal with on a daily
These niggas steady wolfing' in my ear whole time this shit don't faze me
He say he doin' this and that I look at him like boy you crazy
(Like boy you crazy bitch wanna have my baby)
(Ha hahaha luh trap nigga )
(Ok lets do it you feel me )
(Come yea)
Yeah we pop outside with glocks Barreras You know luh trap bout cheese and cheddar
I f*cked diss bitch and I just met her say we together for forever
I said okay make her wetter And if she play I might just set her
My money long that chicken special you niggas broke can't pop outside
I see a opp its time to ride I run it up for Number nine
Don't ever come up down this side play with gang we gon' collide
The bros gon' pull with all they fye's don't f*ck with bills like f*ck the five
He think we lackin pull out pole like pocketknife I love my bitch let's take a drive
Too solid broz we always slide you speak on H we gon collide let's do it
Luh Trapout - Daily (feat. Big gray) Lyrics
Luh Trapout - Daily (feat. Big gray) Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
They gotta problem with big gray hop out on feet and get in mode
Just like the ig gray two solid I stick to code won't never fold
Remember days me and the bros up in the free
U want some bread get on ya feet
I swear to God he diss on H he D-I-E I'm living life kick up my feet and press record
Tell me how the f*ck you get it chances left
And right but still ain't f*cking scored Cause when I see you best believe we got
An issue F*ck round make your mama cry she need some tissue
She ain't know her baby boy what's up online
Pressin' the issue
Five five six and A-R-P's ripped through your skin it ain't gon' miss you
Me and the bros we too official with it
The city bitches
Drop it low soon as I f*ck she out the door I'm in the kitchen whippin' dough
I'm makin' too much of a mess after I'm done mop up the floor
I smoke the za to ezz the pain with shit I deal with on a daily
These niggas steady wolfing' in my ear whole time this shit don't faze me
He say he doin' this and that I look at him like boy you crazy
(Like boy you crazy bitch wanna have my baby)
(Ha hahaha luh trap nigga )
(Ok lets do it you feel me )
(Come yea)
Yeah we pop outside with glocks Barreras You know luh trap bout cheese and cheddar
I f*cked diss bitch and I just met her say we together for forever
I said okay make her wetter And if she play I might just set her
My money long that chicken special you niggas broke can't pop outside
I see a opp its time to ride I run it up for Number nine
Don't ever come up down this side play with gang we gon' collide
The bros gon' pull with all they fye's don't f*ck with bills like f*ck the five
He think we lackin pull out pole like pocketknife I love my bitch let's take a drive
Too solid broz we always slide you speak on H we gon collide let's do it
Just like the ig gray two solid I stick to code won't never fold
Remember days me and the bros up in the free
U want some bread get on ya feet
I swear to God he diss on H he D-I-E I'm living life kick up my feet and press record
Tell me how the f*ck you get it chances left
And right but still ain't f*cking scored Cause when I see you best believe we got
An issue F*ck round make your mama cry she need some tissue
She ain't know her baby boy what's up online
Pressin' the issue
Five five six and A-R-P's ripped through your skin it ain't gon' miss you
Me and the bros we too official with it
The city bitches
Drop it low soon as I f*ck she out the door I'm in the kitchen whippin' dough
I'm makin' too much of a mess after I'm done mop up the floor
I smoke the za to ezz the pain with shit I deal with on a daily
These niggas steady wolfing' in my ear whole time this shit don't faze me
He say he doin' this and that I look at him like boy you crazy
(Like boy you crazy bitch wanna have my baby)
(Ha hahaha luh trap nigga )
(Ok lets do it you feel me )
(Come yea)
Yeah we pop outside with glocks Barreras You know luh trap bout cheese and cheddar
I f*cked diss bitch and I just met her say we together for forever
I said okay make her wetter And if she play I might just set her
My money long that chicken special you niggas broke can't pop outside
I see a opp its time to ride I run it up for Number nine
Don't ever come up down this side play with gang we gon' collide
The bros gon' pull with all they fye's don't f*ck with bills like f*ck the five
He think we lackin pull out pole like pocketknife I love my bitch let's take a drive
Too solid broz we always slide you speak on H we gon collide let's do it
Writer: Mekhi Martin, Grayson Johnson
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid