Correction Lyrics 50k by Trap Manny

Featuring(s) : Pop Smoke

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Lyrics

[Pop Smoke]
Traphouse Mob
Woo, woo, woo, woo (Grrt)
Swirv
Ha-ha-ha-ha (Lose my fucking mind)
Grrt, bow!
Woo

I don't got time for no minimum wage (Uh)
It's 50k to go on stage (Hahahahaha)
Woo, woo, woo
I don't got time for no minimum wage
It's 50k to go on stage
Woo, woo, woo

[Pop Smoke & Trap Manny]
Look, I pop a perc' for dinner (Woo)
Sinner, winner
Pop Smoke drillin'
I do a drill in the Wraith
I could drive you with the apes
He gon' send shots where you lay
An' I'mma pull up with the K (Brrt)
HK, SK, Trap Manny, let it spray
I'm tryna put 'em in the grave (Sheesh)
Can't be workin' no minimum wage (Nah)
Bitch, Trap Manny is my name
It's gon' be a man down an' that's on the set
Glock 9, Infrared
You better run when you see Dread
'Cause boy aimin' for your head
Know how we puttin' in pain
Aimin' for ya (Bow)
Boy aimin' for your brain
Know we do it for the gang
HB, Flossy (Woo)
Catch a opp, do him like Cane
And I still got the percs for the [?]
Opp still runnin' like Ricky, we ain't catched him yet
From the BK back to the BX
[?] my nigga Pop Smoke, put a hole in your chest
And I'm opposition K (Sheesh)
EBK, EBK
Fry that nigga, fish fillet
I'm known for puttin' in pain
And spinnin' in the Wraith (Uh)
While I'm chillin' wit' yo' bae
You wifin' a thot and I'm fuckin' her friends
'Member west state, grizzin', I was up-state
I was spinnin' the yards, always couldn't play
Nigga try me, he goin' end up running from pain
Yeah, I scammed you, but you still playin' wit' them banks
Trappin', scammin'
Bitch, it's Pop Smoke, Trap Manny
That big .38 on me ain't jammin'
If you ain't checking Woo, then get out the way
If you ain't checking HB, get out the way
If you ain't checking Pop, then get out the way
If you ain't checking Trap, then get out the way
Hit the boy up, then fly to LA
Woo, ayy, ayy
Know how we duckin' the jakes
And if you tryna hide, we'll find where you stay (Woo)
Waitin' for ya (Sheesh)
Pop out and get popped in the face
Pull up with big .22, I tote big .38s (Yeah)
Aimin', blowin'
Six shots, it disfigures his face (sheesh)
We goin' have his homies put his face on a chair (Yeah)
Bullets rainin', it's stormin'
Tryna sound like thunder, when it sprays
Lotta niggas tellin', gotta watch what I say, huh
Raf Simmons, transformin', yeah
I'mma hit 'em up an' they gon' fly to LA (Bow)

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