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letra de tables ii - joey trap

yo, you n-ggas still can’t sit with us, stupid
i did the louboutin’s, these is gucci now, you heard?

young rich squad man you boys can’t even sit with us
said he fly as me boy you must be smoking angel dust
new block blower pull up on you phonem paint you up
i get legal money ion f-ck with all that shady stuff

ridin’ through the street in my whip, it’s a sp-ceship, uh
i be in the booth, like a day shift, uh
girl wanna cuff, i don’t date, b-tch, uh
dive off the stage, i’ma break sh-t
you be mad, i’ll be high as f-ck
man you haters sound annoying, like you donald duck
if you thinkin’ i won’t blow up, then you out of luck
i like to use the baby draco, got a lot of buck
and i can’t never be a vegan, boy, i love cheese
probably thought i’m a custodian, i touch keys
i just bought a rollie for my wrist, i call that time freeze
i don’t wanna hear you move your lips, b-tch, do not squeak
she gon’ f-ck me at her crib, tell her man off
keep a fifty round drum, zach randolph
n-ggas really tweaking with that nine, no bath salts
shoot her with the scope, finna aim, take yo’ -ss off
i don’t know what’s broke, b-tch, i work hard
and i used to rock soap and sip wockhardt
police try to say they saw it on us, b-tch, that’s not ours
my n-ggas bang with the blue, like a cop car
smoke dope, loud pack, that’s jamaican
bag it up in fives, i ain’t never had no patience
12th and imperial was at the trolly station
i used to smoke dope out that crib that was vacant
n-ggas tweakin’ on you in some motherf-ckin’ sb’s
i don’t wanna f-ck you, baby girl, i want yo’ bestie
i be puttin’ green in my pocket so they healthy
i always be right, but i’m shootin’ like a lefty, b-tch

n-gga why these n-ggas mad? (why they mad?)
n-gga, i been in my bag (in my bag)
n-gga, why these n-ggas mad? (why they mad?)
n-gga, i been in my bag (in my bag)
n-gga, why these n-ggas mad? (why they mad, hoe?)
n-gga, i been in my bag (in my bag, hoe)
n-gga, why these n-ggas mad? (why they mad, hoe?)
n-gga, i been in my bag (in my bag, b-tch)
n-gga, why these n-ggas mad, hoe? (why they mad, hoe?)
n-gga, i been in my bag, hoe (in my bag, hoe)
why these n-ggas mad, hoe? (why they mad? why they mad?)
n-gga, i been in my bag, hoe (in my bag, hoe)

why you mad? i get bread now
put in work so my pockets lookin’ fed now
young rich squad, these my brothers, ain’t no friends now
get another check through the mail, like a pen pal
ridin’ through the street in my whip, it’s a sp-ceship
i be in the booth 9 to 5, issa day shift
girl wanna cuff, i don’t date, b-tch
dive off the stage with the mic, i’ma break sh-t

dummy, stupid, stupid

- joey trap

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