Correction Lyrics Trap Neva Closed by Hoodrich Pablo Juan

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Lyrics

I ride with it
Still keep that nine on my side with it
Had a gun in a shootout, you hide wit it
That's your problem, what you wanna get high with it?
You keep on taking pictures with that little bitty gun
You gun f**k round and die with it
New Murcielago, butterfly doors
What you n***as need, know the trap neva closed

Cubans at both of the doors
I keep it player they play with they nose
Plug just came in with a load
Too late to get it its already sold
n***as dry snitchin don't stick to the code
I fly with my VVS, I rose on my gold
Got it on my lap, I don't keep it in the console
Backwoods 3.5, I'm rolling gelato
Cartier see all that f**k sh*t, n***a
Catch me a body on defense n***a
12 hit the door I ain't see sh*t n***a
Trapped out apartments I came out the cement n***a
Dope in the cabinet and we serve out the kitchen
Told me give hugs not drugs I ain't listen
No love in the streets I don't love these b*t*hes
I'm going OT, take I it to Memphis (Hol' up)

I be in my trap house 24/7
At the front and the side door with the Mac-11
Serving crack rocks from hell, send a dope fiend to heaven
Young dog keep it strapped, doing everything but telling
He'll rob your lil' n***a, take what he selling
Ima f**k your b*t*h cause I heard that you jealous
I'll bust your sh*t you keep looking at my fellas
I'll spin this chop clip look like propellers
My main b*t*h caramel, her best friend vanilla
Sippin purple, spinning green, and my percocets yellow
BlocBoy a crip, I'ma blood from the Nellas
Hoodrich hood and I'm hood just like him
I shoot the strap at any n***a tryna fight him
Gotta keep 100 round on us, whole gang icy

Glock 19 and I'm good with the ARs
BlocBoy be the painter yeah I pull up and I spray cars
Your baby daddy still got a day job
We be in the trap whipping dope till it hit hard
AR-15 , no .22 Tec
And the smith, I got .22 but I don't run a [?]
I got b*t*hes up in Brooklyn like I play for Nets
Why you shoot him in the face? That n***a played with the set
Hit a n***a in the face with the gauge make a mess
Fill a n***a up with the lead like I'm taking a test
Throwing bullets you like Dez Bryant waiting on a catch
By any means Imma get mine n***a that's a bet

Paper cuts, counting that money all-day
Who is that, answer the door with the K
I fly to LA then I drive to the bay (Let's go)
I buy 100 bands, I get 50 on my face
Don't go to the club, all my n***as in space
I need prescriptions I signed up for Medicaid
Trapped out I don't even know no other way
Brown and white, they talkin' [?]
Just added stones to my Cartiers
I put Christian Dior on and it ain't even Sunday
I make her eat it up entrée
I sold that dope to my auntie

I got rose gold on my front teeth
Let my chopper take care of that one beef
Yo' gang 12, 21 jump street
I won't give a b*t*h nothing she f**k me
Send him up to god he bummed me
I will send him to his grave he asked for it
I dump this b*t*h at the task force
Allie-ooped that b*t*h off the glass board
I got bop sticks on the sideline they loaded
We drop sh*t, do it all the time they know it
Thot b*t*h acting like she mine I don't know her
I ain't takin' selfies with no ho, can't expose me
VS1 chain on you should do the rosery
White b*t*h snort top side give that hoe a nose bleed
Bussin down backwoods at the Pistons game floor seats
every time I shoot, that b*t*h ain't got no D
Uh

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