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ea sports - trdee lyrics

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[intro]
(mk, you like a wizard with this sh*t)

[verse 1: trdee]
what the kicks cost? uh, touchdown (touchdown)
she a freak b*tch, put the cuffs down (she a sl*t)
used to ho me but she wanna f*ck now (okay)
we could talk money, got a lot now (let’s get it)
we could take a trip, but where you wanna go?
think we falling off? n*gga, you must be slow (dummy)
unky on the phone, he said it’s on the floor (let’s get it)
what i paid for this? it might just be a ‘bow
‘wood full of flavors, i can’t tell you what i’m smoking on
dumb question me, go ask yo b*tch and see what she be on
i’ma keep balling for the n*ggas who wanna see me gone
all*white buffies on my face look like provolone
b*tch cute as f*ck but her b*tt look like a backboard
if thе head is good, i cannot lie, i’m coming back for it
what a dummy, tryna beef but he ain’t got no strap for it
hе a bot, every time he cop, his ass get shorted
b*tch, i’m in the game, feel like ea sports (let’s go)
if she ain’t sucking d*ck, i might have to abort
i go and get the dough like i grabbed the door (i get it)
you ain’t really swiped a piece in the store (you ain’t never)
you ain’t never even pressed sh*t, fake stepper (you ain’t do that)
f*cking hoes in a mansion, feel like hugh hefner
finna go get buffed up like a bench*presser
lame blocked me from her page when he saw i text her
palm angels cardigan, i’m looking just like carlton
know some n*ggas sick and think that we can’t get as far as them (sh*t)
found out that they talking to the pigs, gon’ have to slaughter them
spending racks on clothes, remember when i used to borrow them
b*tch bad, had to beat it up, i feel like chris breezy
boy, you better not even leave the scene until your sh*t empty
at the dealership, i want the fastest whip that get to sixty
and i’m riding ’round with curtis jackson, choppa got fifty
[verse 2: babytron]
pants big as h*ll, you got no swag
you ain’t really on a d*mn thing, with yo ho*ass
s plaid tesla finna blow past
b*tch, i skim, read, or swipe cards, and i code crack (skrrt)
so much old money, twenties, they so wrinkled up
5.56s fry him, now he got the crinkle cut
if it ain’t about dineros, i don’t give a single f*ck
thirty clip hanging out the stick like a pringles cup
me and dee wrestling with the money counter, tag team
grown man acting like a b*tch, you a drag queen
cuddy on the block catching bricks like he glass clean
brodie on parole, can’t smoke no za so he a black fiend
i’ma keep stacking
i been doing this since truey was the jean jacket
feel like ai, i’m the scoring champ, don’t need practice
201, 101, b*tch, that’s beep action
201, 101, i’m in the jeep with it (skrrt)
mp5 with silencer, i gotta creep with it
weather different where i’m at like, sh*t, why the heat sticking? (why?)
first down or fourth down, we gon’ keep blitzing (yeah)
second down or third down, we gon’ probably score (probably)
i got some pills and a pint, told ’em my body sore
sh*t, i just need the wocky, what you bring the jollys for?
habibi taxing for an oxy’, give my akhi four
in the store, sl!ck hair like i’m johnny bravo
catch an opp, what i got for him? probably hollows
why you lying on yo mans? he turning in his grave
let him say he want smoke, turn him to a eighth
bmw, i’m whipping german for the day
sick the fans peeped me, shut the curtains in the wraith
he be perping, you can tell he hurting in his face
was in dead last, now it’s first in front of place
ain’t a teller but i’m working in a bank
[outro: babytron]
sh*ttyboyz, dog $hit militia, you know what the f*ck going on
what’s the deal, dee? they can’t f*ck with us

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