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letra de can you rap like me, pt. 2 - trippie redd

[intro]
p. soul on the track
i love trippie redd

[verse 1: trippie redd]
yeah, big blunts, i like to roast up
p-ssy get no love and no luck, i don’t f-ckin’ know ya
chillin’ with the gang, i like to post up
get up off the block if i don’t know you
you dealin’ with some soldiers that ride with the motherf-ckin’ pole, bruh
i ride with the motherf-ckin’ pole, bruh
i rise with the motherf-ckin’ pole, bruh
and you know a motherf-cker pop a sealy, pop a pilly
pop a n-gga head like amoxicillin
i’m a villain, really don’t show no pitty
i’m hot, saditty to these b-tches
b-tch, she hot and juicy, i’m hot and gritty
how you hot and sh-tty? wait
’cause sh-t hot, but you know your sh-t not
my sh-t make the whole city rock
and diddy-bop, i spit it off the t-tty-top
and if you don’t like it, then f-ck n-gga, eat a itty-bitty c-ck (yeah)
eeny-meeny-miney-moe, catch a thottie by her toe
if i let her go, then i’ll prolly f-ck another ho (snotty nose mafia, b-tch)

[verse 2: chris king]
stack of paper like a binder, she slimy, she not a rider
her n-gga got bars, who’s your service provider?
still searching for a lighter, too many that sound just like us
we get rewarded for the likeness, get twenty plaques like gingivitis
got the touch like king midas, i eat the beat, i get the ‘itis
create-a-player, high ball, it’s like i turned up all the sliders
okay, pop a sealy like amoxicillin
when i pop the trigger, drop a n-gga
then he shook his body like a macarena
mop a stranger, he was starin’ straight, catchin’ improper angles
god can’t save you, slap my b-tch from the back, call it palm’s angels
i bet when a n-gga hop up, b-tches, they’ll be all angry
i told trippie three years ago that this game was ours, n-gga
bathing ape face mask like these rappers got sars, n-gga
i be in the background, you can see that i’m a star, n-gga
i got where i am being exactly who i are, n-gga
you ain’t protected at the garage, out your car, n-gga
i’m the bomb just like a warhead, go to war just like a jar-head
give this dog a bone and think i wasn’t gon’ catch it like that sh-t was farfetched
young n-gga, stayin’ on point just like a bayonet
we rollin’ top down, bummin’ on the main street, then i sprayed the ‘vette
just a young n-gga but i been doin’ it for so long they gotta praise the vet
for my n-ggas on lockdown, and the crimies that really plead the fifth
pourin’ lean inside the booth, yeah, i am mult-tasking, make multi-millions
m-16 and blow up your blow-up mattress, you know what’s brackin’

- trippie redd

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