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letra de trap house - fair fight

bizzzle:

i be rollin’ swishers in the streets, yeah

(hook)

i be rollin’ swishers in the streets
smoke a hundred pounds of weed
these b-tches droppin to they knees
when they see me blow a hundred twenty’s
all of the sudden they listen to me?
cus i got me some cash
now all of the sudden they f-ckin with me?
cus i flipped me a rack
get the f-ck out the trap house
get the f-ck up the trap house
got the f-ck up the trap house
now all of the sudden they f-ckin with me?
cus i got out the trap, i got out the trap house

mont gotti:
(verse)

ball like lebron makin moves on these n-ggas
i’m gone off that act, need a box of them swishers
marvin the martian i gotta stay in it
i dream about it then i wake up and get it
rose gold rollie i gotta get it
hoes don’t even know me they tryna get me
stay out my pockets go get you some buisiness
that hootin and hollerin’ go get you some m’s
ima up pole talk that sh-t come again
gettin this money who i started it with
no time for love b-tch i’m tryna get rich
no love and affection, need plugs and connections
i stack up my money then count up my blessings
they talkin that sh-t ain’t n0body gon’ test me
grade a never settle for less
only loud i can’t find you no stress
you want some wax i can get you the best
og kush hit banz up for that
i just cut em’ off, talkin no ends
motivation be them blue faces
smokin’ loud in the mercedes
grindin’ hard, young with 2 babies
come and shop with me we got all the flavors
don’t you ever try to play me like a sucka
slide on em got the mac covered
drum roll luke holland on em’
push a b-tton a hundred n-ggas ridin’
i got tired of being not on nothin’
stop chasin’ hoes now the hoes comin’
sh-t is crazy when your n-ggas hatin’
you the one grindin’ mind on the paper
to the broke n-ggas that’s being fake?
on some boss sh-t, gotta get ghost if i want a ghost
if i want the wraith, young made n-gga tryna get paid
flick of the wrist bout to flood my sh-t
slide on yo block back to back empty clips
i want it all me n my n-ggas go get it
double f b-tch yeah you know we the sh-t, gang

(hook)

bizzzle:
(verse)

b-tch i’m a city slicker money tall like pillars
i be trappin’ you know that my pockets thicker than a snicker
be actin’ the fool when i’m gone off that liqour
girl i’m from the veg so you know i’m a sinner
i’m eatin’ the p-ssy for muhf-ckin’ dinner
the booty go up and down just like a mixer
she bad imma hit her
bit if she a thot imma dish her the curve like a pitcher
i’m always the winner

mont gotti:

we just beginning, better than most of these n-ggas
n-ggas go hard in the kitchen, watch for the people
pops was a savage out here in these streets
apple don’t fall too far from the tree
momma a hustler she all about dollars
try to finesse me they screamin who shot him

- fair fight

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