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backstreet - trapland pat & luh tyler lyrics

[verse 1: trapland pat]
get up in that [?] drugs, he tryna make [?]
couldn’t buy designer, he was dressing plane
once we get the low, we push up on the [?]
it was me, no umbrella, standing in the rain
[?] traps [?] straps
put him in the air, smoke him like a pack
on the tip was a twist, just to make a [?]
this ain’t what you want, n*gga, this ain’t that
what that sound mean?
that somebody dying
run[?] riding [?]
you can run, you can duck, but you can’t hide
i tossed his ass overboard, tryna [?] mine
[?]
[?]
[?]
she steady going through my phone, tryna find [?]
[?] everybody do it
pat just touched down, now we running through it
[?] we making music
and money call, we on the way, we be running to it
back to the scrilla, can’t comparе me to your n*ggas
ain’t n0body realer
catch mе [?] through the jungle with some d*mn gorillas
[?] spending, we some f*cking drillers
[?] you can go and check my rap sheet
305, we ain’t [?] got a pack [?]
never seen him outside, he just rap street
they know we always outside, on the backstreets
[verse 2: luh tyler]
know we always outside, on the backstreets
and your b*tch is a runner, [?] track meet
i’ve been running up this chicken like an athlete
n*gga, i be snapping on the mic, ain’t with that rap beef
these n*ggas said they getting to that bag, know they really capping
pull up in that wraith, getting cake with my n*gga trap
brodie in the club with that thang, know he keep a strap
you ain’t got no change, you’s a lame, i can’t give you dap
you ain’t tryna go and get that bag, you can’t shake my hand
i woke up early morning to that chicken, yeah, i’m making bands
n*gga, i’ve been chasing after that bag, i ain’t making friends
i’ma look at [?] to the end
i’ma look after the fam, n*gga, that fasho
eh
n*gga, fasho
i’ma go and run that money up, get to that dough
remember i was coming up, i never thought i’d blow
n*gga, i done ran that money up, now i done kicked the door
man, i told the bro hop in the [?], but he [?]
n*gga, we go and get that paper, ain’t no chasing hoes

- trapland pat luh tyler lyrics

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