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trapmania - bic fizzle lyrics

[intro: gucci mane]
tay keith, f*ck these n*ggas up (1017)
(so icey boys)
(that boy fizzle)

[verse 1: bic fizzle]
870, trench baby, you know the struggle raised me
being broke ain’t turned me down, that sh*t just got me motivated
i breathe loud, got on my sh*t and put my foot on all my haters
money stackin’ up in layers, look like i play for the lakers
we gon’ f*ck from 9 to 5 like this your job or i’ma trade ya
i won’t waste none of your time or mine, i’d rather chase some paper
trappin’ too hard in the hood, i’m gettin’ complaints from all the neighbors
like, “that young n*gga too hot out here, he got so many flavors”
i worked hard for what i got, so i won’t let no n*gga take it
water mix with my phantom pot, it got me movin’ like the matrix
know this sh*t 1k 4l, see, we got millions on the table
.223 find our traces, cross that line and fizzle face it

[verse 2: cootie]
(shh, who’s that?)
it’s the cooter
grab the fork and twerk it, twist it, twirl it like some noodles
i’m a big dog, f*ck i look like runnin’ with some poodles?
you might think this was a poolhall, just look at all these shooters
it’s a celebration, b*tch, another trapper mania
my ho jealous, bruh, i think my plug even hatin’
i’m tired of n*ggas f*ckin’ up, then cryin’ ’cause they can’t pay me
they don’t know who did it, but the n*gga family still hate me
you can’t tell us nothin’, b*tch, you see we made it out them trenches
in the game ballin’ hard, b*tch, we finally off them benches
the caption read, “we winnin’,” with the trophy on the ending
my girl jealous, said the glock get more attention than extended
[verse 3: gucci mane]
i can show you how to flip a fifty to a million
i got the midas touch, they say i’m somethin’ like a magician
i dropped the top, i’m chillin’, now my car ain’t got no ceiling
don’t put your hands on guwop or your limbs won’t have no feeling
ceo ’bout business, it been blushin’ ’bout this pendant
and you can’t work the brown unless you gon’ stand on the business
i can’t take you serious, it’s all fiction in your lyrics
your rap so f*ckin’ cap, not even your partner wanna hear it
straight from arkansas, just gave these young n*ggas a chance
and how you call them country when my young n*ggas got bands?
we ballin’ in miami, yeah, i’m rockin’ with the clan
and i can’t do no dancin’, all this money in my pants

[outro: gucci mane]
(ha)

- bic fizzle lyrics

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