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no hook - fat trel lyrics

[intro: fat trel]
(banger)
yeah, i can’t wait
(hb)
okay, so

[verse 1: fat trel]
i’m one of the realest, i’m one of the illest
just got a new check, and i f*cked up the dealer
got a new b*tch, and i bought her chinchilla
kissin’ my neck, and her p*ssy vanilla
cony these beats, and i’m probably a k!ller
just copped a new house, and i’m ridin’ with pillars
gettin’ money, then i’m probably with her
she bring a friend, and i probably hit her
in the back of the bach, with a strap on my lap
double cup, full of act, i might have an attack
f*ck up my face, or get beat with the strap
play with my pay, i pull up with a mac
its me and lil tate, with a drac’, on the map
your sisters are mice, and your daddy a rat
you writin’ a statement, no takin’ it back
maybe you should’ve just stayed where you at

[verse 2: tate kobang]
northside sh*t, you don’t know what the f*ck goin’ on
twenty*eight, twenty*eight, sb sh*t, n*gga
brrt, h*llo? ayy
when you walk in my trap, come straight to the back
put it straight on her plat’
ronald mcdonald, i’m straight with the mac
tryna make mama proud, put my face on the plaque
she sellin’ p*ssy, its straight on the at
still hittin’ l!cks, i got plays on the at
i’m the one who put the city on the map
dripin’ designer, look good in the trap
go home, n*ggas know what’ s up, trap phone
steady blowin’ up, bad b*tch, got her glowin’ up
lean in me, got me slowin’ up
when you see me, i be flaggin’, my n*gga
make a threat, we toe tag ’em, my n*gga
k!ll more, i be draggin’, my n*gga
twitter talk, we body bag ’em, my n*gga, yeah
[verse 3: fat trel]
yeah, i heard them n*ggas don’t like us, huh
i wear the rep with the lipes, huh
i got some k!llers in rikes, huh
i like to whip with no license, huh
beat up the pot, like i’m tyson, huh
i just went shoppin’ at tysons, huh
trap out the trap ’cause i’m righteous, huh
i put my b*tch on the bikes, huh
role play, i put my d*ck on her colgate
bought her this ice, its stone*age
no win, indictment, my whole name
told ’em i’m winnin’, i’m feelin’ it
and my lil new b*tch an immigrant
foot in that p*ssy, i’m k!llin’ it
all of my young n*ggas militant

[verse 4: tate kobang]
huh, brrt, h*llo?
if i’m tryna collect, then, b*tch, what you expect?
ain’t got my money, we straight at your neck
know what i’ve been, like respect with the tec
f*ck how you feel, i just keep sh*t in step
be or be trippin’, she just want a check
b*tch, keep the p*ssy, i just want the neck
choppers on deck, so we don’t wanna reck
still in the trenches, don’t ask where i’m at
i love them strippers, and i’m eatin’ ass
we hittin’ l!cks, and i’m keeping the gats
we slingin’ stones in the house made of glass
don’t do no gucci, no snakes in the grass
i love my city, i’m all that they have
key swept the brick, ’cause we makin’ it last
don’t bump your music, ’cause you n*ggas trash
here for the moment and gone in a flash
i love my n*ggas, i give ’em my last
i dumped your wife, left that b*tch in the past
f*ck with the baby, its still in the trash
lovin’ this muddy, she just do not clash
she put that wet p*ssy all on my ‘stash
you f*ck that b*tch, she gon’ give you a rash
i talked to my cousin straight through the glass
i’m here to k!ll you, i ain’t wear no mask
[outro: tate kobane]
see i don’t think you n*ggas understand, right?
haha, when i talk my sh*t, i talk my sh*t because i can talk my sh*t
you n*ggas can’t ’cause you can’t, you feel me?
i do ’cause i can
who gon’ test me, huh?
i say sb sh*t, ay, 20 gauge, sh*t, ay
got a n*gga b*tch, and she suckin’ on my d*ck, ay
pass her through the clique, ay, hurricane wrist, ay
ay, birck, ay, baby, call me “hurricane chris”
brrt, h*llo?
haha, that way

- fat trel lyrics

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