作词 : Bashar Jackson

作曲 : Bashar Jackson/Yosief Tafari

Traphouse Mob

Yoz, what you tellin' me? (Yeah)

What you tellin' me? Yeah

I got Snacks to the right of me

I got Mikey to the left of me, huh, wait

Woo

Look, look

Ayy, what up?

Hold on, what they talkin' 'bout? Hey, what them folks talkin' 'bout?

Huh, look, huh

Buddy gon' grrt that, grrt that, brrt that, brrt that

Send shots, make 'em get back

All that chit-chat, chit-chat, riff-raff, riff-raff

My n*ggas ain't into that

N*gga be talkin' hot, but he ain't on sh*t (Woo)

I got like fifty rounds up in this clip

If I go to jail, n*gga, I'll plead the Fifth (Uh?)

'Cause mommy still gon' love her kid

N*ggas tryna lock me up and give me a bid, huh?

I'm like n*gga, f*ck the pigs

The judge like, "Why you actin' like a d*ck?"

I said, "I'm movin' like I'm Steven Vic"

My lawyer like, "Poppy, why you brazen?"

I said, "I pop a Perc' and feel amazin'"

I shoot for the stars, I'm a foundation, huh

Look at the money I'm raisin'

She wanna f*ck, hold on

She snuck in the book, have her wait for arraignment

She get d*ck and edible arrangements

That's the only form of payment

Shawty a snack

And after I snack, I'ma blow out her back

She like, "Poppy, you so crazy," huh

I told her, "Wine on me, baby" (Woah)

She want a star

She wanna f*ck 'cause she know who we are

These hoes be dirty, ain't hittin' 'em raw

When it come to hoes, I got b*tches galore (Grrt)

She wanna grip that, lick that, ask where the stick at

Freak b*tch put my d*ck where her lips at (Woo)

She goin' all gas, no chit-chat (Ayy)

She goin' all gas, no chit-chat

Ayy, bah-bah-ba-bum (Bum)

Here come that boy with the drum (Woo)

If I pull it out, then that boy gonna run (Brrt, brrt)

If he want the smoke, knock the beef out his bun, ayy

I go dumb, dumb, dumb (Go dumb)

Air it out, leave him slump-slump-slumped (Baow)

F*ck what they say, they know that I'm gucci

Pull up with a pump-pump-pump (Pop, pop, pop)