AYE!

Lyrics

[Tag 1: Trap-A-Holics & Shadoe Haze] Trap-A-Hol—, Trap-A-Hol—, Trap-A-Hol— [Intro: Scoot] Yuh, yuh, whoa, huh? Hm? Wait, aye! Damn, this shit go like "Aye!" What the fuck it do? That shit kinda go like "Aye!" Okay, I got something for 'em I say [Verse 1: Scoot, Trap-A-Holics, & Shadoe Haze] Gotta go hard, drive Load the TEC, you part time I disconnect you offline Need respect, that's all mine (Ugh!) I'm a smart guy Got twin Glocks at all times They don't shoot, they harmonize Hit that note, they blow your mind (Trap-A-Hol—, Trap-A-Hol—, ugh!) And I got weight on me (Okay) I'm a big deal, they wait on me (Yes, sir) You can't pay that fee (Whoa) I'mma collect, just wait and see (Yup) Haters turn to vacancies (Whoa) Freddy with the Ruger follow your dreams (Bow) I stay zooted, streets I'm rooted No cap, please don't play with me (Aye) Pleasе don't think it's sweet The choppers had a busy week I clock my shooters in Thеy got that scope So if you hide, they seek And when you tagged, yo' body freeze Might end up in the Wallacean Don't play these games I might just peek I count to ten, they rest in peace [Tag 1: Trap-A-Holics & Shadoe Haze] Trap-A-Ho—, Trap-A-Ho—, Trap-A-Ho— [Verse 2: PE$O PETE] One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine (Grrah!) No more opps in the area With my blood like Malaria And the stick on my side like Harry, uh Metal, I carry, got iron sittin' in my carry-on Two or three straps in the chariot Shit can get dark like a lariat Ain't no room for the bullshit, carry on We done booked the whole damn Marriott So much money, my drip Thousand Sunny but Your drip old, like the water Going Merry on Shit not funny if you thinkin' you can touch me Youngins like Chucky, shit can get scary, dog Clipper light flick, couple hits, I'm very gone [Skit: VI Seconds & Scoot] How you got weed and invite me and Scoot over, but don't offer us none? You a bad friend, PE$O, but yo (Aye, aye) [Tag 2: PE$O PETE & [?]] SHINY PACK! (*Shiny Pokémon Sparkle*) [Tag 1: Trap-A-Holics & Shadoe Haze] Trap-A-Hol—, Trap-A-Hol—, Trap-A-Hol— [Verse 3: VI Seconds & PE$O PETE] I be touchin' all this money, you ain't got a thing I pull up with a Glock and I let it sing (Bow) When it pop, it go "Bitty-bop, botta-bing" I got a lotta chains and a lotta rings (Icy) I ain't got a lotta time for the bullshit, yuh You don't wanna hop in the bull pit, yuh Got full pockets and a full clip, yuh Whip you in the mouth, get a full lip, yuh (Aye) When it come to the money, I got some mean ways I keep me a Tommy that stay within green range Or I get it online, no need to see face I can go on vacay for a hundred and three days If I want to You do money talks, this how money look (Yeah) I give you funny looks, you have funny looks I call these niggas bummy, you have bummy looks I send these niggas dummies, you a dummy [Outro: VI Seconds] Juice