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london - j $tash lyrics

[intro]
money
what
relax

[hook] (x2)
trappin’, trappin’ with the glock (boow)
posted up on the block
baking soda with the pot
your baby mama she a pie
pull up on her in a drop (skrr skrr)
i ain’t f-ck i got top
why you cuffing she a thot (what)
f-cked that b-tch on the spot (yaa)

[verse 1]
why you cuffing you a lame, wanna f-ck me for fame
wanna f-ck grab my chain, f-ck her to gucci mane
f-ck that b-tch like a dog, p-ss that b-tch to my dog
f-ck that b-tch in the yard, pray to me like a god
pray to me like messiah, smoking that gas got that fire
selling that pack with my five, shoot a n-gga he lying
rob me you is dying
i ain’t tripping i be flying
smoking that gas from my plug that white boy his name ryan
getting that cash like i’m signed
i don’t need rap i could trap and a n-gga survive

[verse 2]
talking money i got plenty, couple thousand for the denim
couple thousand on my women
splashing on them when i’m winning
shoes tight i ain’t tripping, if it ain’t sealed i ain’t sipping
sipping syrup eating chicken, foreign car i be whipping
diamond wet they be dripping, cocaine she be sniffing
shooting at them scottie pippen, never wife her i be pimping
look at my chain and my watch and my ring
rocking raf simmons, walking in the rain
f-cking famous b-tches, treat them the same
if you don’t get p-ssy you is a lame
foolish lil’ n-gga stay in your lane
make a n-gga dissapear, david blane

[hook] (x2)
trappin’, trappin’ with the glock (boow)
posted up on the block
baking soda with the pot
your baby mama she a pie
pull up on her in a drop (skur skur)
i ain’t f-ck i got top
why you cuffing she a thot (what)
f-cked that b-tch on the spot (yaa)

- j tash lyrics

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