TRX Lyrics
This a big old TRX, this is not a Ram
Everybody over this bitch bustin’ down grams
Don’t ask me ’bout no nigga, you don’t never see his ass around
Finesse a nigga, then serve him a plate of fake whams
Ayy, hold on, hold on, hold on, nigga
Run that shit the fuck back, nigga
Y’all niggas tuned into Boston Richey, nigga
The trapper of the year, nigga, shit, nigga
Niggas ain’t trap more dope than me, hold on
Let’s get back in this shit, now run it back, run it back, run it back, ayy, ayy
Just served a nigga a whole plate of fake Metro Boomin
Have a plate for thirty-eight, what the fuck is Metro doin’?
Country boys go for anything, they fuckin’ with the movement
You can drop a bad batch off, I’ma get this bitch boomin’
Traphouse filled up, I come in this bitch, I straight juiced it
Lil’ bitch bought me Ricky Owen, she say no pressure, she just spoofed it
She tryna beat me to the punch, know this lil’ bitch know my music
Treat that lil’ bitch like a slut, where she was when it was Buicks?
It wasn’t no shoppin’ sprees and I was way too trap influenced
‘Bout that trap shit, I’m puttin’ these niggas down, these niggas clueless
By 5 p.m., I’m on my third brick, I’m already two in
Say you get some money, then post a throwback picture of Patrick Ewing
Ayy, cash cow, I fuck her good, I got these bitches mooin’
She want me to fuck her up on her period, lil’ bitch, chill, I’m just boolin’
I’m focused up on these bricks I gotta sell while you shampooin’
‘Cause I don’t make no money today, ain’t no way in hell you think I’m screwin’
This a big old TRX, this is not a Ram
Everybody over this bitch bustin’ down grams
Don’t ask me ’bout no nigga, you don’t never see his ass around
Finesse a nigga, then serve him a plate of fake whams
This a big old TRX, this is not a Ram
Everybody over this bitch bustin’ down grams
Don’t ask me ’bout no nigga, you don’t never see his ass around
Finesse a nigga, then serve him a plate of fake whams
I got everybody tuned in
Soon as I started rappin’, that when the feds tryna move in
Tell Bobby Fischer, Kenny P, bring out that blue fin
They trappin’, need improvement
I see the way they postin’ up on the ‘Gram, be all bullshit
Micro compact, but this bitch hit hard just like a bull hit
These niggas be watchin’ me like I been preachin’ in a pulpit
See the lil’ bitch tweakin’ on the ‘Gram, done with her bullshit
She can double back on me, I swear I wish I would hit
This a big old TRX, this is not a Ram
Everybody over this bitch bustin’ down grams
Don’t ask me ’bout no nigga, you don’t never see his ass around
Finesse a nigga, then serve him a plate of fake whams
This a big old TRX, this is not a Ram
Everybody over this bitch bustin’ down grams
Don’t ask me ’bout no nigga, you don’t never see his ass around
Finesse a nigga, then serve him a plate of fake whams
