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trap keys - joey trap lyrics

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[intro]
oh, that’s me on the keys, stupid
you heard? (haha)

[verse]
down for the bread every night, b-tch i need that (trap)
middle fingers up every day, f-ck your feedback
nine with the beam, finna aim, take your kneecaps
this ain’t your girl anymore, mind your beeswax
run to the bank while i laugh, i don’t chase hoes (duh)
h-lla fast in this whip, i outta state flow
i’m in the lab making’ slaps you should take notes
why would i ask for your dubs, i need bankrolls
how the f-ck is you fly with no haters?
been in my bag and i grind like a skater
nine on my hip and this nine got a laser
this vsop hennessy with no chaser
kloud gang up, baby trap, i be spazzin’
propane tongue, when i spit, call it g-ssin’
no flame on, i’m just fire like a dragon
your girl ain’t home, ’cause she here and i’m tappin’ (huh?)
your girl ain’t home, ’cause she here and i’m tappin’ (huh?)
meme god flow, west coast be slappin’
oh i produced this track, how that happen?
i got in the booth, snap my fingers is magic
young rich squad, man you boys can’t even sit here
i ride with three hoes, like a reindeer
don’t ask, “what’s in my cup?,” but it ain’t beer
she bossed up, was with you, but she came here
look, i’ma g-sser
i f-ck like two times, then i p-ss her
i met her last night, she a dancer
she called me all night, don’t answer
look, said i’m broke, man he probably high
shawty didn’t want to f-ck, told that b-tch, “bye” (bye)
never ain’t countin’ guap, like my bread pie
in a benz, smokin’ dope while i p-ss by
ayy, sorry i ain’t got a hook for this
you should see the way the compet-tion gon’ be shook from this
i be g-ssin’ everything i’m on, i need a book for this
she hit me in my dm’s for the addy, just to look for this (haha)
i’m a muf-ckin’ goblin
@kloudgod, i’m a muf-ckin’ god then
clip knee high wanna talk, then we rob him
those levi’s, these some muf-ckin’ robins
he three fly, why that n-gga always poppin’
she three live when she dance, never stoppin’
that’s your girl, i ain’t know she was choppin’ ..
it don’t really matter she already started toppin’ (top)
i don’t need friends ’cause my b-tch bad
i ain’t let her f-ck, so your b-tch mad
when i’m in my bed, i’m my b-tch dad
why you always talkin’ ’bout that sh-t that you don’t have? (gang)
ayy, i don’t lie, check my bankroll
it’s some laced gucci kicks, i don’t lace those
in the whip, with my b-tch, coutin’ pesos
i’m so sick, roll my sh-t and i face those
big watch, big bands, b-tch
got your main b-tch lookin’ like a fan, b-tch
i done went from stackin’ up my dollars to a ben b-tch
i been in my bag, i don’t wanna be your friend, b-tch
ha, trap keys, these are trap keys
trap please flip a pack, like a trapeze
stack cheese on a block, work a b-tch knees
gucci to my socks, you don’t have these

[outro]
huh, gang gang

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