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letra de ticket - sherwood marty

[chorus: trapboy freddy]
what is your play, n-gga what is the ticket?
you waited too long, i’m goin’ up on the feature
i’m up in the trap, b-tch i post in the kitchen
microwave whip when i whip me a chicken
package just landed, let’s throw us a party
versace my kicks, excuse me, pardon me
can’t trap with me, b-tch i’m feelin’ like carti
hundred somethin’ pounds, just me and lil’ marty
what is your play, n-gga what is the ticket?
you waited too long, i’m goin’ up on the feature
i’m up in the trap, b-tch i post in the kitchen
microwave whip when i whip me a chicken
package just landed, let’s throw us a party
versace my kicks, excuse me, pardon me
can’t trap with me, b-tch i’m feelin’ like carti
hundred somethin’ pounds, just me and lil’ marty

[verse 1: trapboy freddy]
hundred somethin’ pounds, just me and lil’ marty
in the back of the ‘partment with elbows
dumpin’ that dope out a el ca’
strapped up like a velcro
we cookin’ these onions, come get you an onion
we cookin’ up circles like funyuns
we ain’t droppin’, we gon’ jump it
i ain’t breakin’ it down, we gon’ front it
workin’ my wrist in rotation
we don’t owe explanations
if they hatin’, pay the haitians
leave them lil’ b-tch n-ggas waitin’
if you taste it, you can take it, hey
runnin’ through pounds in the coupe
all the way down to the boot
i just put some ice all on my tooth, ooh
i just went back with the roof, poof
hundred dollars for the line-up
palm city, why they numb to the china
a loyal b-tch kinda hard to find when you draped down in designer
trap fashion my attire
two hundred grand in a tire
play with that package, get tied up
kick out the spot, b-tch i’m tired of her

[verse 2: sherwood marty]
i’m in the trap with lil’ freddy
f-ckin’ with thirty, get deadly
you know them young n-ggas heavy
choppin’ the work like machetes
trafficking pounds in the chevy
reach for my chain, gon’ regret it
we turn your sh-t to ‘paghetti
been poppin’ sh-t like confetti
i’m in the hood so you better not confuse it
i run the city, i’m feelin’ like boosie
i’m the trap god so i’m feelin’ like gucci
young fly n-gga, i’m feelin’ like lucci
i call it the mac and they call it the uzi
too many clips, i’m shootin’ a movie
too many pounds and i’m tryna lose it
run off on me, n-gga you must be stupid
i got too many racks in this designer bag
twenty bands a day, man that’s a lot of cash
my name speak for itself so i ain’t gotta brag
there go that lil’ n-gga with a lot of swag

- sherwood marty

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