letra de trap house 3 lyrics (ft. rick ross) - gucci mane
in the trap house, in the trap house
in the trap house, gucci mane, check it
choppa on the floor, pistol on the coach
hood rich so i never had a bank account
junkies goin’ in, junkies goin’ out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
money kinda short but we can work it out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
bricks goin’ in, bricks goin’ out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
i’m tired of sellin’ bricks, i wanna go legit
i wonder can i sell 11 mill’ like 50 cent
’cause platinum ain’t enough, i got too many vices
i love to smoke weed, love to shoot dices
say my life style extravagant
i talk cash sh-t, b-tches say i’m arrogant
well, godd-mn gucci c-ckin? it
but at the same time young hoes be jockin’ slim
gucci ain’t sh-t, b-tch, i beg your pardon
i’m independent but i’m ballin’ like a major artist
i stay high like giraffe, p-ssy
in my trap house, smokin’ rubber kushy
choppa on the floor, pistol on the coach
hood rich so i never had a bank account
junkies goin’ in, junkies goin’ out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
money kinda short but we can work it out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
bricks goin’ in, bricks goin’ out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
jumped out the whip, everybody lookin’
big clouds of smoke but ain’t n-body cookin’
girl, there go gucci mane
i want his autograph ’cause i’m his biggest fan
yellow humvee with the yellow feet
yellow diamonds the same color as cheddar cheese
and i’m smokin’ on that purple sh-t
they call me temp service ’cause i’ll work a b-tch
money long like shaq feet
runnin’ dough like a sprinter at a track meet
i heard he got that soft white
extended clips make them busters get they mind right
choppa on the floor, pistol on the coach
hood rich so i never had a bank account
junkies goin’ in, junkies goin’ out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
money kinda short but we can work it out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
bricks goin’ in, bricks goin’ out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
in my trap house watchin’ sports center
in the kitchen cookin’ but i ain’t cookin’ dinner
splash it with the water, whip it, make it harder
17 for ’em the same number as quincy carter
say i’m workin’ with wit a mill’ or better
married to the game, me and [incomprehensible] live together
street smart n-gg-, never listen to the teacher
you can catch me in the bathroom smokin’ reefer
prices low like wal-mart
bricks on i-9, get your shoppin’ cart
knee deep in the dope game
i’m not a farmer but i’m known to push them collard greens
choppa on the floor, pistol on the coach
hood rich so i never had a bank account
junkies goin’ in, junkies goin’ out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
money kinda short but we can work it out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
bricks goin’ in, bricks goin’ out
made a hundred thou’ in my trap house
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