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Rat Trap
by
BabyTron
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Lyrics
Huh Fell asleep with my chain on, woke up with a crooked neck Life just like a game but you know you cannot hit reset I'll pull my pants down, baby, you can do the rest Number one rule with this sh*t, that you cannot confess Tron just walked in high as hell, with his giggly-ass I like all my hoes with deep throats and a jiggly ass Talk sh*t till my breath stank, where the Wrigley's at? Profile fire, BIN punch, finna get me a jack Five hundred dollar BAPE hoodie straight out Loose Cannon Comfy than a b*t*h in BOA, I'm in my goose scamming Crab legs, shrimp, and some steak, I don't do [?] Flyer than a pelican, can catch me on yo roof landing Feel like Giannis for the bucks, I'm flying down the lane I be hanging with gorillas and they can't be tamed I do know a couple freaks but they can't be named Why the f**k you hate the player? I ain't make the game Hopscotching in my Gucci sneakers, thousand dollars scuffed b*t*h tried to give her heart to me but got her tonsils touched Ship him to the Lord like UPS, he tryna box with us Whole gang keeping torches, looking like a mob with us Huh Hit the store, jam then I scram, I don't serve and swerve Tryna stop the shine? f**k around and get the curtains burnt Two seater with the boost in it, finna skrrt the Vert Two big-ass lobster tails in my surf and turf Yeah He don't ever shoot his strap, I don't think it work b*t*h, my chain really dance, I can make it twerk Hmm, what you flashing in yo vids, spent that on a shirt She gon' f**k off the name, I ain't gotta flirt She gon' f**k 'cause I'm a sh*ttyBoy, I don't flirt with hoes In a red zone with Dee, it's feeling like it's first and [?] Think I met her at the strip, my b*t*h know how work the pole Mastermind PUA pusher, I can work the Pros Wockhardt, Japanese [?] b*t*h, the swig expensive Touch bro? It's a headshot, you can't finish wrestling High as hell on [?] ninety-four, I'm Mr. Miss-The-Exist In the D, if it's bread, where you think them fishes headed? Put her in some Gucci flip flops, she wanna show her toes You depressed and really mad at life, sh*t, this how it goes Are you a G League coach? You ain't got no Pros You need to look in the mirror, asking where the hoes Yeah, huh Bag drag, jack grab, gang racing Scat Pack Hundred hoes on me, my DM look like a rat trap Instagram scams, grannies asking for they cash back I could throw a train in reverse, wouldn't backtrack Act rude, stack blues, off the red and black Loubs Fourteen hundred dollar steps, walk the f**k past you Ruth's Chris, Jay Ale's, I don't f**k with fast food Pretty lil' b*t*h, swear she sh*tting on my last two
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