$80 Za Pack

[Intro]
(Fuck the fire, we got grease)

[Verse 1: Certified Trapper]
Eighty-dollar za pack, so you know my piss dirty
Walk a nigga down, yeah, I do it like he deserve it
Bitch, my pockets stay fat and I might just have a cool thirty (Ooh, it's BlueStrip, baby)
Try to pull a TEC, I'ma hit you with a James Worthy
Popped him in his head and that nigga had brain surgery

[Verse 2: StanWill]
Shit, hold up, Certified, huh
I'm with Certified, but I can't trap a ho
The trap like Walking Dead, got zombies at the door
Soda black, the Cartis white, no, I don't segregate
I was swipin', bro was trappin' out the Section 8
I can teach the method, bitch, I made a dub in seven states
Only thing I know is gas, I'm gon' neglеct the brakes

[Verse 3: Certified Trapper]
Bitch, my split was thirty-five hundrеd, get your ass a cape
Get up in the car, smack ten all up in her face
Drop a deuce of codeine, purple soda in the lemonade
I'm just gettin' money, I ain't in this shit to get no fame

[Verse 4: StanWill]
How you gettin' money, but you workin', tryna get a raise?
Hundred in the ARP, bitch, I can spin for days
Chicken on his top, my hitter eat him like he Chic-fil-A
Unky play with Pedigree, he think he Triple H
The sneakers Triple S
Let her try to set the play, gon' lay your bitch to rest
T-shirt with an X
Target practice with the F&N, I bet we get 'em stretched

[Verse 5: Certified Trapper & StanWill]
Sleeping bag up on the ARP, we layin' shit to rest
Water on my neck, they skinny-dippin', bitches gettin' wet
Water on my shit, got me lookin' like I skinny-dip
Kitty 'Cat or better, I can't pull up in no hemi shit
Burberry, Palm Angels, bitch, how I did the drip
.308'll knock his socket loose, I hit him in his hip
If you wanna catch that play, then you gon' have to set that pick
Brodie like a center, he could teach you how to catch a brick

[Verse 6: Certified Trapper]
Sun beamin' on my lenses, my shit shining
It's a bird in the kitchen and it ain't fryin'
What's the word? Call a plug with the perfect timing
Get it one way or another, you don't gotta like it

[Verse 7: StanWill]
Bro gon' spike the pop with Wocky, he ain't sippin' regular
Pull up politickin' for his mans, we hit the messenger
He know I hit his bitch, he didn't question her
Tried to give me all her heart, but I'm just gettin' head from her
She a stupid ho
Tryna duck the beef, I bet I catch 'em like I'm Julio
I keep a tooly on
I'm Netflix and chillin' with your bitch, ain't cut no movie on