Da Bottom

Lyrics

[Intro] Ayy Drip, splash Ooh Ayy [Verse] We shoot yo' trap up if you're trappin' on my block (Blap, blap, blap!) Even though I'm rappin', I'm still trappin', I can't stop I was fourteen years old when I shot my first Glock (Blap, blap, blap!) I was fifteen when I punched a Texas City cop (Go!) I'm from the bottom, we throwin' up B's On my way to the island to serve me a P I used to trap at mama's, sell shells on the east (Ayy) Now I'm rich than a bitch, I get racks in my sleep (Ayy) You play with me, it's either hell or heaven (Go!) I done came a long way from my trap on second (Ayy) I got water on my neck (Drip, splash!) I'm pluggin' with some good connections Packs are never intercepted (No!) I'm ridin' with a Mac .11 They say, "You can't take that money with you" (What?) I say, "I'ma count these racks in heaven" Versace'd down to the ground, Medusa all over my clothes I used to have my granny mad for hittin' stains right at the door Now she proud of me 'cause I'm gettin' paid for all my shows And I just got some niggas shot because they went against the code Real trap nigga, I got pounds all over my floor (All over my floor) Designer all over my ho', VVS, diamonds froze (No!) You got caught with yo' stick, but you ain't shot shit (You ain't shot shit) I was servin' 'em them bricks, we was robbin', hittin' licks It's so overstood, I was in the hood, bangin' with my clique (Blap, blap, blap!) On the southside, walkin' with a .30 on my clip (Ayy) Got it for twenty-five, then I charge thirty for the brick Trappers out, fuck the law, we ain't worried 'bout that shit (We ain't worried 'bout the laws) I tried to tell these lil' niggas, they need to listen (They need to listen) I just served your uncle, he just walked inside my kitchen (He walked inside my kitchen) Had to skrr off in a Bentley, had to go run up my digits (Skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr) But if a nigga get to trippin', then we go pay him a visit I be splashin', I be drippin', I be laughing at these niggas Walk in on Cassie down these bitches (Go!) And I'm still trappin' with my Glizzy (Ayy) And I got them killers jumpin' out the white van (Go!) And I got El Chapo tatted on my right hand (El Chapo!) TSF on his face, nigga, yeah, we clique'd him in (Ayy) I'm servin' pounds up in a Bentley (Ayy) The day I'm servin' pounds again (Peso Peso) Free Juice, cut 'em loose, he got twenty in the pen' (He got twenty in the pen, twenty in the pen) [Outro] Yeah, real bottom boy shit Drip, splash, TSF the power