$80 Za Pack

Lyrics

[Intro] (Fuck the fire, we got grease) [Verse 1: Certified Trapper] Eighty-dollar za pack, so you know my piss dirty Walk a nigga down, yeah, I do it like he deserve it Bitch, my pockets stay fat and I might just have a cool thirty (Ooh, it's BlueStrip, baby) Try to pull a TEC, I'ma hit you with a James Worthy Popped him in his head and that nigga had brain surgery [Verse 2: StanWill] Shit, hold up, Certified, huh I'm with Certified, but I can't trap a ho The trap like Walking Dead, got zombies at the door Soda black, the Cartis white, no, I don't segregate I was swipin', bro was trappin' out the Section 8 I can teach the method, bitch, I made a dub in seven states Only thing I know is gas, I'm gon' neglеct the brakes [Verse 3: Certified Trapper] Bitch, my split was thirty-five hundrеd, get your ass a cape Get up in the car, smack ten all up in her face Drop a deuce of codeine, purple soda in the lemonade I'm just gettin' money, I ain't in this shit to get no fame [Verse 4: StanWill] How you gettin' money, but you workin', tryna get a raise? Hundred in the ARP, bitch, I can spin for days Chicken on his top, my hitter eat him like he Chic-fil-A Unky play with Pedigree, he think he Triple H The sneakers Triple S Let her try to set the play, gon' lay your bitch to rest T-shirt with an X Target practice with the F&N, I bet we get 'em stretched [Verse 5: Certified Trapper & StanWill] Sleeping bag up on the ARP, we layin' shit to rest Water on my neck, they skinny-dippin', bitches gettin' wet Water on my shit, got me lookin' like I skinny-dip Kitty 'Cat or better, I can't pull up in no hemi shit Burberry, Palm Angels, bitch, how I did the drip .308'll knock his socket loose, I hit him in his hip If you wanna catch that play, then you gon' have to set that pick Brodie like a center, he could teach you how to catch a brick [Verse 6: Certified Trapper] Sun beamin' on my lenses, my shit shining It's a bird in the kitchen and it ain't fryin' What's the word? Call a plug with the perfect timing Get it one way or another, you don't gotta like it [Verse 7: StanWill] Bro gon' spike the pop with Wocky, he ain't sippin' regular Pull up politickin' for his mans, we hit the messenger He know I hit his bitch, he didn't question her Tried to give me all her heart, but I'm just gettin' head from her She a stupid ho Tryna duck the beef, I bet I catch 'em like I'm Julio I keep a tooly on I'm Netflix and chillin' with your bitch, ain't cut no movie on