corrija a letra Letra Fruit Pack por Chris Travis

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Smoking packs, smell like fruit
Pull up bitchI, they gon' shoot
Hit a lit, f*ck a crew
She gon' move, how she move
Passin' sticks, up in school
Now I'm headed, to the moon
Got your bitch, off the shroom
Now she headed, to her doom
And I keep like 50K
Niggas slaves, niggas bait
And I keep my business straight
Bigger plate, fish n' steak
And f*ck with all bitches
It don't matter, any race
And I keep a large limit
f*ck what any nigga say

They like B, who the f*ck you be?
Nigga, yeah, that's me
For some beep, niggas Swisher Sweet
Bitch is bitter sweet
Hit my phone, lil' bitch what you need?
I can't help your needs
On my own, with my family tree, my niggas different breeds
Think you tough, think you bout that, push ya' scalp back
f*ck a bitch, I ain't bout that, where the cash at?
Staying loyal, I won't doubt that
Boy won't fly back, losing screws out your flapjack
Get the f*ck back

I'm on a move
All you niggas snooze
Monkey see and do
Got your boo
She might dust my shoes
Clean the livin' room
Coming soon
All you niggas snooze
f*ck the game, no rules
I'm the truth and I play my dues
Like I went to school

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