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Trap Luv (feat. Yo Gotti)

Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language:

I'm in a jungle

Lions, tigers and gorillas and shit nigga

It's a lot of monkey ass niggas out here too

How to hustle nigga

Rules, laws, strategy10 million dollars later I'm a blessing nigga

How a nigga rich but still stressing nigga

Glock .40, Smith & Wesson nigga

Streets will never ever stop testing niggas

Youngin' give 'em a head shot, send a message nigga

Part rapper, part goon, still finessing nigga

I believe in hustle I don't fuck with luck

And it's fuck em kill em all if they don't fuck with us

Them three letters mean a lot boy, sacrifices

Cocaine Mafia, double check the prices

Niggas killing niggas like they got a license

Niggas crossing over like they Allen Iverson

Fuck that iPhone 6, they be tracking niggas

I'm about to get a beeper, fade to black on niggas

Gotti, goodnight, I'm gone

I be back when they quit living through phones

When niggas put the gram down and pick the grams up

You got follows but no dollars man that shit ain't adding up

Nah, and all the dirt I done, all the bricks I sold

I can't sleep at night, paranoid it shows

I be strapped on stage, fuck the award show

'Cause I shoot this bitch up and only God knowsYeah like I told you a long time ago fam, y'all my motivation

I keep fighting doing this for y'all.

Every time I get somethin' in the mail

Whether it's strapable or not from the courts

I keep putting it down because y'all my motivation.

I appreciate the loveNiggas riding gold rims and they mama po'

And they kill a family member for that envelope

I'm the Lionel Richie to these Commodores

We flip pies to franchising Dominoes

I speak for dope boys every track I'm on

Until this day my people never rat or told

Posted 20 in, I'm talking fed pen

The line between us both have gained so very thin

Amongst my boys of W.E.B. Du Bois

Souls of black folk to hustle wasn't a choice

Rap game everybody skimming off the top

Fuck interest as long as you pull it off the lock

Hoes wanna fuck, haters wanna hate

Certified sack boy, black Ronald Reagan

Double M no longer that Buick Regal money

Nickel bag niggas so don't make me put a kilo on it

Negotiating for it or either we take it

Niggas even shooting choppers in a fuckin' cadence

Fell out with some people that I still love

I guess that's how it goes when it's real blood

I remember counting cash standing in the trap

I turned my hat to the back, had a hundred stacks

60 m's later and 300 tax

Still losing weight with the south on my back, niggaI pray you play by the rules

I came so close the edgeI pray you play by the rules

I came so close the edgeI pray you play by the rules

We came so close the edgeI pray you play by the rules

Enjoy the lyrics !!!