Trauma Victims

Lyrics

[Intro: GlockBoyz TeeJaee] (If you ain't got a beat from Bam, you don't trap enough) Bro wonder how I do it and I make— (MIA JAY C) Come on, GlockBoyz, nigga [Verse 1: GlockBoyz TeeJaee] I know you wonder how I do it and I make this shit look easy My hair nappy, but my pockets fat as hell, they on Peezy I know I rap, but'll still up the blick and shoot, you don't believe me? I might fuck around and wild out for nothin', I been fienin' We got thirty-two lines, that's two pints and six spots They tried to take my nigga 32 out the game like 2Pac If Paris told me I'm in BandGang, this shit been gettin' too hot Money keep on comin' in, these bad hoes just wanna fuck now I told bro if I start shootin' and I miss, just get the rebound [?] we pull up with them switches and they beatbox Forget 'bout my name, lil' boy, 'cause I keep Glock You play around with us, we see you out, then you gon' be shot, nigga This shit gettin' real, I wouldn't lie to you That's yo' ho? If I drop lo', then she gon' fly it to me I came outside with one in the head, ain't gotta cock the pistol You run up on me tryna play it, then I'm gon pop a nigga [Verse 2: 3200 Tre] Huh, she like, "Why your head so fucked?" Bitch, I'm a trauma victim Huh, I never played FIFA before, I don't got time to kick it Huh, I got sat down for a second, now it's time to get it Huh, I forgot my blick at home, I grapped my mama pistol Huh, my hair nappy than a fuck, that's why I keep it braided Huh, in LA lookin' for a plug, don't care to see the Lakers Huh, I don't need no handout, bitch, you can keep the favor Huh, stack, stack, stack, flip, and repeat the stagin' Huh, I wanna my bullets hit you, so I need some tracers If you a grown man drinkin' liquor, you don't need a chaser Dog said he got his own sauce, he just need some flavors Huh, my energy can start a car, bitch, you don't need no cables Huh, they say when [?] came out, he came to play ball Huh, he don't just want half the pocket, he came to take all Huh, my name ring bells on the campus, I got some great soft Huh, dog tried to kill me, he knew I was 'bout to take off [Outro: 3200 Tre] Come on, nigga Real Money Counter, MINE shit, bitch It's Thirty, come on Trippin'