LONDON

[Intro]
Money
What
Relax

[Hook] (x2)
Trappin', trappin' with the Glock (Boow)
Posted up on the block
Baking soda with the pot
Your baby mama she a pie
Pull up on her in a drop (Skrr Skrr)
I ain't fuck I got top
Why you cuffing she a thot (What)
Fucked that bitch on the spot (Yaa)

[Verse 1]
Why you cuffing you a lame, wanna fuck me for fame
Wanna fuck grab my chain, fuck her to Gucci Mane
Fuck that bitch like a dog, pass that bitch to my dog
Fuck that bitch in the yard, pray to me like a god
Pray to me like Messiah, smoking that Gas got that fire
Selling that pack with my five, shoot a nigga he lying
Rob me you is dying
I ain't tripping I be flying
Smoking that gas from my plug that white boy his name Ryan
Getting that cash like I'm signed
I don't need rap I could trap and a nigga survive

[Hook] (x2)
Trappin', trappin' with the Glock (Boow)
Posted up on the block
Baking soda with the pot
Your baby mama she a pie
Pull up on her in a drop (Skrr Skrr)
I ain't fuck I got top
Why you cuffing she a thot (What)
Fucked that bitch on the spot (Yaa)

[Verse 2]
Talking money I got plenty, couple thousand for the Denim
Couple thousand on my women
Splashing on them when I'm winning
Shoes tight I ain't tripping, if it ain't sealed I ain't sipping
Sipping syrup eating chicken, foreign car I be whipping
Diamond wet they be dripping, cocaine she be sniffing
Shooting at them Scottie Pippen, never wife her I be pimping
Look at my chain and my watch and my ring
Rocking Raf Simmons, walking in the rain
Fucking famous bitches, treat them the same
If you don't get pussy you is a lame
Foolish lil' nigga stay in your lane
Make a nigga dissapear, David Blane

[Hook] (x2)
Trappin', trappin' with the Glock (Boow)
Posted up on the block
Baking soda with the pot
Your baby mama she a pie
Pull up on her in a drop (Skur Skur)
I ain't fuck I got top
Why you cuffing she a thot (What)
Fucked that bitch on the spot (Yaa)