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letra de couple grand (remix) - trae

(feat. lil’boss, jay’ton, yung joc)

[chorus:]
a couple grand, price tag on your head – leave you layin where you stand
a couple grand, price tag on your head – on your head, on your head
a couple grand, price tag on your head – price tag on your head
a couple grand, price tag on your head – leave you layin where you stand

[verse 1: yung joc]
watch him die slow, then his eyes roll (uhh)
in the back of his head, now his body cold (uhh)
a couple grand, a couple shots
couple drip drops, now your leakin won’t stop
b-tch i’m the man just ask block
shots rang out, you could hear ’em for a couple blocks (-gun firing-)
b-tch what’s my name, call me yung joc
i got a great aim all i need is one shot
everybody talkin in my nieghborhood (maaan)
i got great lawyers cause my paper good (yeah)
leave your body riddled, wheezin and coughin
here your body lye, box five in monica coffin
you f-ck with mine, i’ll cross ya life line
i’m a graffiti artist, paint chalk outlines
and the worst part (what it is) – is i’m not a coward
visit your wait and give your momma dead flowers

[chorus]

[talking:]
yeah joc i got this one for ya homie
let me get at this b-tch, -ssholes by nature

[verse 2: trae]
i been sittin a second, but now i’m back for the drama
so tell that p-ssy n-gg-, he headed for trauma
you’d rather slap ya momma, ‘fore you come f-ckin with trae
homie i’m ‘tha truth’and i get in that -ss with no delay
penitentaries, to cities, and ghettos i got it locked
i’m abn go check the trunk (-schreeching tires-)i bet i’m fully stocked
i’m so deep in the streets – i started and ain’t never gon’stop
and f-ck a [reversed] b-tch, ya’ll make sure ya’ll rotate in the box
it ain’t no greetin through the lines, i spitt it clear as day
n-gg-s gay, plus it’s understood you get it – how you play
i call the shots around my way, i’m that n-gg- in charge
and f-ck the talk, you better see me with an entourage

[verse 3: yung joc]
this is not a movie (cut) – no re runs
all sells final, no refunds
once i make the payment, the hits out
i’m not jeezy – i ain’t swappin sh-t out (that’s right)
first i tell ’em (what you tell ’em?) – where i want it done (where you want it?)
in the back yard, right in front of his son (-screaming-)
then i tell ’em (what you tell ’em) – where to drop him off
in the chattahoochie with his d-ck chopped off (d-mn)
yeah it sounds harsh, but it’s well deserved
feed his -ss to the sharks, for our’dueuvres
no remorse, no pity
this could happen to you in new joc city

[chorus]

[verse 4: lil’boss]
before the day i want this b-tch knocked the f-ck off the globe
while i’m posted inside my crib, in a hoover blue robe
it’s lil’boss, i send my villans to seek an elobe
dumpin a few, makin these n-gg-s hop fences like toads
better practice what they be preechin when f-ckin with me
i introduce yo’-ss to h-ll when f-ckin with me
i got some n-gg-s that’ll go do the job for free
you lose yo’life when tryna mob in the streets like me
any action you n-gg-s takin need to discipline
you bangin with a hoover gang criminal, b-tch you listenin (ya heard me)
price tag on your head, rice bag for the lead
b-tch n-gg-s gon’get it the right way, cause it’s a code red

[verse 5: jay’ton]
i gotta couple grand for any n-gg- that want it
you shouldn’t have started, now you done got me up on it
see i got n-gg-s from the west, all the way to fifth ward
i’m hoover crippin, i got blood’s and bd’s in my squad
it’s jay’ton n-gg- and now i’m set trippin
it’s abn you better chill before you come up missin
they call me tarzan b-tch cause i run with guerillas
i’m certified my older brother dinkie was a killer
i’m slow loud to the bang, and i bang to the left
you violate me and i swear i’m gon’bang to the death (bow)
and it’s a d-mn shame, but i’m playin it dirty
i’m barely twenty, f-ck n-gg- you d-mn near out ya thirties

[verse 6: yung joc]
i gotta couple killers, down in pre – trial
put gl-ss in your food, you sh-t – your guts leak out
the sheriff call your mother and she freak out (-crying-)
got her hittin member up, got him on speed dial
ooh it ain’t nothin, but a call away
come home find, your baby sister in the hallway
9 – 1 – 1, but it’s too late
she lookin like a maxi pad, bleedin through the duct tape

[chorus: repeat ’til end]

- trae

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