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trunk - maajins lyrics

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trunk lyrics
[intro]
zaysk!llz
slatt (uh)
n0body cares, n*gga

[chorus]
i got a bl!ck in the trunk, huh
walked in that b*tch with a pump, huh (sh*t)
lil hoe i do what i want, huh
that b*tch mad, she call me a c*nt, aha
smokin’ your pack, we gon’ bunt, huh (oh)
your b*tch eat me like honey bun, huh
we just do sh*t for the fun, huh
i’m your dad, b*tch, you my son, yeah (rah)
look at my cup, yeah, it’s dirty
in this hospice, tell that b*tch not to worry
glock make him dance, call him rick perry
send that boy up to the sky like a birdie, huh
b*tch call my phone, what you want? (huh)
look at my wrist, yeah, it came from milan
i’ma drop in, yeah, we hittin’ the club but they know who we are, so we skippin’ the line (slatt)

[verse 1]
(yeah*yeah, yeah*yeah, yeah)
you n*ggas ain’t f*ckin’ with me
i had to go in and hardеn the g’s
got rich, shoutout gunna, i’m pushin’ them p’s
i hit with the glock, i ain’t fightin’, huh
hе ain’t touch a band since biden, huh
he stealin’ my flow, yeah, he bitin’, huh
my b*tch got bad hair like a viking, huh
.50 cal on me, yeah, i’m snipin, huh
[verse 2]
d*mn, lil’ boy in the dirt
i’m off the perc’, my eyes wide, lil durk
come get your b*tch, she tryna flirt (haha)
in new york, i feel like i’m a.v
i f*cked her friend, that’s why she hate me
b*tch, i ain’t smokin’ your weed, you gon’ lace me
rockin’ that red, yeah, shoutout steve lacy
that n*gga ain’t slide, he pullin’ a fake*y
bullets gon’ ride through his car, no escaping
four pockets full, b*tch, i feel like lil baby
i’m with the smoke, i ain’t talking ’bout vaping (sh*t)

[chorus]
i got a bl!ck in the trunk, huh
walked in that b*tch with a pump, huh (sh*t)
lil hoe i do what i want, huh
that b*tch mad, she call me a c*nt, huh
smokin’ your pack, we gon’ bunt, huh (oh)
your b*tch eat me like honey bun, aha
we just do sh*t for the fun, huh
i’m your dad, b*tch, you’re my son, huh (rah)
look at my cup, yeah, it’s dirty
in this hospice, tell that b*tch not to worry
glock make him dance, call him rick perry
send that boy up to the sky like a birdie, huh
b*tch call my phone, what you want? (huh)
look at my wrist, yeah, it came from milan
i’ma drop in, yeah, we hittin’ the club but they know who we are, so we skippin’ the line (slatt)

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