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camp sh*t 2 - trl lyrics

[intro]
(reuel, stop playin’ with these n*ggas)
come on

[verse 1]
uh, come on, let’s get it started
we ain’t worried ’bout no opps, we snuck the bl!ckie in the party
just spent a stack on pants, server gallery department
you gon’ hear this ‘cat, sound like a dog when i start it

[verse 2]
it’s on my mind, i done lost it
ain’t liked the color of my pop, so i darked it
conversation ain’t ’bout money, so i’m off it
we put your mans in this ‘wood, but i ain’t coughin’

[verse 3]
my young b*tch way thicker than my grown b*tch
if i don’t hit the bank in a week, i get homesick
put a beam on the glock, that’s a glowstick
said he want smoke with who? leave him smokin’
i really push up on sh*t

[interlude]
n*gga, camp boyz, n*gga, wе still the youngest n*ggas on that, n*gga
still f*ckin’ n*ggas’ hoes, all that sh*t, n*gga
ocb sh*t, n*gga, all that
camp guyz, n*gga, camp world, n*gga, lеt’s get it, come on
[verse 4]
don’t start nothin’ or i’ll finish it
get on that rim and drop somethin’ like literally
you don’t get this sh*t i’m sayin’, you illiterate
lil’ n*gga chewable like [?]

[verse 5]
throw them c’s up ’cause it’s a camp boyz summer
i feel bad for the opps, ’cause when i see ’em, they gettin’ hunted
psych, i’m lyin’, you know them n*ggas tellin’, i ain’t did nothin’
boo, you know who really active and you know who really bluffin’

[verse 6]
two thousand dollars in my pocket all dubs, no thumbin’
he spinned the block too many times, i grab my glock and get to clutchin’
it’s big bank like the tramp, we servin’ weed, lean, and 30s
that lil’ b*tch was lyin’ to you if she ever said she curved me

[verse 7]
this money on me dirty, she sayin’ that i’m worthy
tell the clerk i need it in all hundreds in a hurry
you sit around broke with no money, make me worried
speakin’ on the camp, hit your block out the ‘burbs

[verse 8]
f*ck her off an rp, she like, “dee, you tryna hurt me”
if you tell, i’ma send your ass to h*ll, is it worth it?
these n*ggas ride more waves than some surfers
gon’ come to the front, we doin’ side door service
we servin’
[verse 9]
n*ggas fib in the purp’
and this sh*t out the mud, so we pourin’ up dirty
n*ggas talkin’ ’bout bodies, never shot at a person
b*tch know i ain’t flirtin’, you look like a worker

[verse 10]
b*tch, you know i ain’t no trick, don’t try to play me like no sucker
but if you play your role, i might spend a couple on you
i’ve been deep in my bag, feel big things comin’
told me she’ll beat my ass, a b*tch come to her as a woman

[verse 11]
that’s why i don’t play with b*tches, we finesse him out his glock
b*tch, you don’t wanna pay for switches, it’s a robbery
bet he make a move, then we gon’ k!ll him
he was talkin’ down on me, i bet we gon’ make him feel it
i ain’t used to have no paper, now i stack it to the ceiling

[verse 12]
he don’t take care of his people, and i don’t feel it
ridin’ low in this track’, got your ho in it
why he bring my name up? man, i don’t get it
i can tell how he talk, he did no dealin’

[verse 13]
you talk to the pigs, so we can’t do no business
h*llcat goin’ east to west in four minutes
thousand dollar pants, and my shirt was four fifty
i’ll put my heart on sale, i don’t got no feelings
[verse 14]
ain’t hidin’ nowhere, i be all through the city
we know you a b*tch if we call and you timid
she a party girl, always hoggin’ the liquor
they was tryna blend in, now they all in the blender

[verse 15]
off this run, we made a k!lling
brodie down the way grabbin’ jacks in the rental
me and my mans got a play, we gon’ split it
i see an opp out, i’m tryna hit him with the switchie

[outro]
n*gga
f*ck y’all ho*ass n*ggas, camp boyz, ocb sh*t, n*gga

- trl lyrics

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