Released: November 28, 2014
Songwriter: Philo$ Cult A$AP Ferg
Producer: Philo$ Cult
[Verse 1]
Trap Lord on my belly, free my nigga Relli
Elijah smoking that smelly, ménages in the telly
Blonde bitch named Shelly, dick all in her belly
I met that bitch at a fashion show, she was rocking Margiela
I was with Kwasi Kessie rocking all that Versace
Might be in there sailing, smoking all that Beijing
Ten stacks in my pocket, for no reason I got it
Fuck around and hit Sin City, tell that bitch to pop it
What's up with you and Purrp? I ain't into all of that gossip
He brought the funk into my crew, you gotta ask Rocky about it
All I know is A$AP riding in them Maybachs
40. cal, we spray that, when AK brratt you take nap
Oh, Lord, that Hood Pope - oh, Lord, that Trap Lord
Why they call you Trap Lord? Cause you a rap lord to my casket
I ain't bowing to no time, Hood Pope on my gold shine
My dirty niggas wanna tote nine, but we talk rhyme
I tell 'em hold up
[Chorus]
All I know is that Trap Lord, that Hood Pope
All I know is that Trap Lord, but you're a rap Lord to my casket
All I know is that fast Porsche smoking that good smoke
Model bitch who from Brazil, she want it on her culo
Riding 'round the city feeling like P. Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac, and no Biggie
Riding 'round the city feeling like P. Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac, and no Biggie
[Verse 2]
No reply when you call Lord, mama cry 'til her throat sore
Liechtenstein when I drunk four you was dying in this war hall
Body left near the staircase courtesy of the whole mob
Don't mean no fucking thing when I pull up in that Goyard
Shooked up from that toe star, ask questions like Nardwuar
Like can you feel your fucking legs? I bet that nigga cannot walk
Persian bitch stack coke hard, sniff white 'till her nose soft
I fucked that bitch with no rubber, cause that bitch be so raw
Puff-puff when the semi pump, nigga really gonna pop
Trunks when you see me duck, niggas really want
Y'all punks can't see the God trap, Trini' Lord
And I click like Donkey Kong when I hit this long
Better run when you see the mob, you be seeing God
Hear the drum when my niggas march, you gon' see Allah
You the son of a bitch nigga, you daddy a broad
You a bitch, little bitch nigga, probably wearing bras
[Chorus]
All I know is that Trap Lord, that Hood Pope
All I know is that Trap Lord, but you're a rap Lord to my casket
All I know is that fast Porsche smoking that good smoke
Model bitch who from Brazil, she want it on her culo
Riding 'round the city feeling like P. Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac, and no Biggie
Riding 'round the city feeling like P. Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac, and no Biggie
Trap Lord on my belly, free my nigga Relli
Elijah smoking that smelly, ménages in the telly
Blonde bitch named Shelly, dick all in her belly
I met that bitch at a fashion show, she was rocking Margiela
I was with Kwasi Kessie rocking all that Versace
Might be in there sailing, smoking all that Beijing
Ten stacks in my pocket, for no reason I got it
Fuck around and hit Sin City, tell that bitch to pop it
What's up with you and Purrp? I ain't into all of that gossip
He brought the funk into my crew, you gotta ask Rocky about it
All I know is A$AP riding in them Maybachs
40. cal, we spray that, when AK brratt you take nap
Oh, Lord, that Hood Pope - oh, Lord, that Trap Lord
Why they call you Trap Lord? Cause you a rap lord to my casket
I ain't bowing to no time, Hood Pope on my gold shine
My dirty niggas wanna tote nine, but we talk rhyme
I tell 'em hold up
[Chorus]
All I know is that Trap Lord, that Hood Pope
All I know is that Trap Lord, but you're a rap Lord to my casket
All I know is that fast Porsche smoking that good smoke
Model bitch who from Brazil, she want it on her culo
Riding 'round the city feeling like P. Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac, and no Biggie
Riding 'round the city feeling like P. Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac, and no Biggie
[Verse 2]
No reply when you call Lord, mama cry 'til her throat sore
Liechtenstein when I drunk four you was dying in this war hall
Body left near the staircase courtesy of the whole mob
Don't mean no fucking thing when I pull up in that Goyard
Shooked up from that toe star, ask questions like Nardwuar
Like can you feel your fucking legs? I bet that nigga cannot walk
Persian bitch stack coke hard, sniff white 'till her nose soft
I fucked that bitch with no rubber, cause that bitch be so raw
Puff-puff when the semi pump, nigga really gonna pop
Trunks when you see me duck, niggas really want
Y'all punks can't see the God trap, Trini' Lord
And I click like Donkey Kong when I hit this long
Better run when you see the mob, you be seeing God
Hear the drum when my niggas march, you gon' see Allah
You the son of a bitch nigga, you daddy a broad
You a bitch, little bitch nigga, probably wearing bras
[Chorus]
All I know is that Trap Lord, that Hood Pope
All I know is that Trap Lord, but you're a rap Lord to my casket
All I know is that fast Porsche smoking that good smoke
Model bitch who from Brazil, she want it on her culo
Riding 'round the city feeling like P. Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac, and no Biggie
Riding 'round the city feeling like P. Diddy
Glock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac, and no Biggie
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