Released: March 3, 2015
Featuring: KirbLaGoop
Songwriter: Aristos Petrou Scott Arceneaux Jr. KirbLaGoop
Producer: Budd Dwyer
[Verse 1: TRAP HOUSE $CRIM]
Ridin' in the 3rd with the all black tint (what?)
Smoke one, hoe, get high with a pimp
Kick the front door, bitch, better bust down
Sippin' on dip while we break down the loud (what—?)
Just know one thing, I don't fuck with nobody (nah)
Case full of shells, with a twelve-gauge shotty
Trap House $crim, bitch, I could give a fuck
Ridin' round town with the nine on tuck
Never hesitate if I gotta go and bust (what?)
Dare a motherfucker to try and act tough (what?)
Hunnid motherfuckers that's all ready to rush
Hunnid motherfuckers that's dyin' to light 'em up
Live from the land where you 6 feet deep
Before you even die, just standing on your feet
Gold teeth with a grin that'll make a bitch wet
504, keep the choppa on flex
[Verse 2: 7TH WARD LORD]
Bitch, I'm from New Orleans, ayy
7th Ward Lord cuttin' guts with a sword
Yung Mutt 'cause I'm half-fucking-foreign, ayy
Gimmie the blunt, bitch, you wastin' all the weed
Pass it around, use my lungs as the storage, ayy
Pitbull in the yard, stay away from my gate
That's a motherfucking warning, ayy
Twenty-inch spokes like a platinum switchblade, ayy
Ice on my wrist, help the swelling go down from the slit
You can find me in the motherfucking tank, ayy
Five-hunnid degrees, four dollar signs
Dial up my line, I'm on the East Bank, ayy
$uicide, left the blood on my shank
*59 Yin Yang, ayy
[Verse 3: KirbLaGoop]
Hunnid thou', hunnid thou', $uicide, $uicide
Who you think you fuckin' with?
You done lost yo' mind (Lost yo' mind)
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom! (Do-do-do-do-do)
That’s all you hear when I step in the room (Hahaha!)
Boy I jugg, jugg, jugg, you can check my right wrist
Every day in the kitchen, watch me flip (whip, whip!)
I can cook, I can cook, Betty Crocker (I’m a baker)
Got them cakes and I serve pills like a doctor (I got prescriptions)
I’m on the corner, on the corner—fuck the corner (man, fuck that shit)
I’m in the house, servin' weed like a farmer (I’m a farmer Jon)
I got crops, I got crops, long-ass crops (long-ass crops)
And I got hoes, I got them bops, I got them bitches
Hunnid thou', hunnid, hunnid, hunnid thousand
Don’t try us, we just start wyling
$uicideboy$ with the Kirb
What you talkin'? Absurd
Tryna try us, what we gon' do? Put yo' brains on the curb
No play, all day in FLA, okay, bitch
You can try that shit, I’ll put yo' face on a t-shirt today, damn
Ridin' in the 3rd with the all black tint (what?)
Smoke one, hoe, get high with a pimp
Kick the front door, bitch, better bust down
Sippin' on dip while we break down the loud (what—?)
Just know one thing, I don't fuck with nobody (nah)
Case full of shells, with a twelve-gauge shotty
Trap House $crim, bitch, I could give a fuck
Ridin' round town with the nine on tuck
Never hesitate if I gotta go and bust (what?)
Dare a motherfucker to try and act tough (what?)
Hunnid motherfuckers that's all ready to rush
Hunnid motherfuckers that's dyin' to light 'em up
Live from the land where you 6 feet deep
Before you even die, just standing on your feet
Gold teeth with a grin that'll make a bitch wet
504, keep the choppa on flex
[Verse 2: 7TH WARD LORD]
Bitch, I'm from New Orleans, ayy
7th Ward Lord cuttin' guts with a sword
Yung Mutt 'cause I'm half-fucking-foreign, ayy
Gimmie the blunt, bitch, you wastin' all the weed
Pass it around, use my lungs as the storage, ayy
Pitbull in the yard, stay away from my gate
That's a motherfucking warning, ayy
Twenty-inch spokes like a platinum switchblade, ayy
Ice on my wrist, help the swelling go down from the slit
You can find me in the motherfucking tank, ayy
Five-hunnid degrees, four dollar signs
Dial up my line, I'm on the East Bank, ayy
$uicide, left the blood on my shank
*59 Yin Yang, ayy
[Verse 3: KirbLaGoop]
Hunnid thou', hunnid thou', $uicide, $uicide
Who you think you fuckin' with?
You done lost yo' mind (Lost yo' mind)
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom! (Do-do-do-do-do)
That’s all you hear when I step in the room (Hahaha!)
Boy I jugg, jugg, jugg, you can check my right wrist
Every day in the kitchen, watch me flip (whip, whip!)
I can cook, I can cook, Betty Crocker (I’m a baker)
Got them cakes and I serve pills like a doctor (I got prescriptions)
I’m on the corner, on the corner—fuck the corner (man, fuck that shit)
I’m in the house, servin' weed like a farmer (I’m a farmer Jon)
I got crops, I got crops, long-ass crops (long-ass crops)
And I got hoes, I got them bops, I got them bitches
Hunnid thou', hunnid, hunnid, hunnid thousand
Don’t try us, we just start wyling
$uicideboy$ with the Kirb
What you talkin'? Absurd
Tryna try us, what we gon' do? Put yo' brains on the curb
No play, all day in FLA, okay, bitch
You can try that shit, I’ll put yo' face on a t-shirt today, damn
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