Trim Lyrics by Yung Bleu (feat. G Herbo)
Uh, twenty bands on him (On him)
Fifty bands on him (On him)
Hundred bands on them
You speak them words, you gotta stand on them (Gotta stay standin’)
Walk down with fire and rep the brand on him (Gon’ always rep the brand, frr)
These hoes gon’ *** off face ’cause my *** trim
I’m tryna *** her face ’cause I’m a pimp
Ain’t here to conversate, you gotta strip
I *** her with my .40 on the dresser
Yes, sir
Do you love me? Yes, sir
***, you better, yes, sir
Stack your cheese, yes, sir
Lot of cheddar, yes, sir
*** me better, yes, sir
Can you be my Cinderella? Yes, sir
Gotta drop them clothes, yes, sir
Gucci loafers, LV sandals (That’s my ***, I’m poppin’)
This *** got more ass than I can handle (***, you know I pop it)
Preferrin’ a Scorpio, but she a Cancer (*** that ***, come pop it)
Take off, I’m tryna fly you from Atlanta (Got them racks, I got it)
Completed, I got more cash than I can handle (Got them racks, I got it)
Can’t believe that you got more ass than you can handle
Put you on camera
I don’t drink no more, so take a shot for me
I’ma drop the hammer
Nail you to the cross, you feel it in your knee
Chain go bananas
*** hit like TV screen ’cause these VVs
Young *** from Bama
Where the niggas be sellin’ packs like DVDs
***, I’m so trim
Yeah, yeah
Uh, twenty bands on him (On him)
Fifty bands on him (On him)
Hundred bands on them (Oh, that’s a hundred bands)
You speak them words, you gotta stand on them (Lil’ ***, I overstand)
Walk down with fire and rep the brand on him (Gon’ always rep the brand, frr)
These hoes gon’ *** off face ’cause my *** trim (My *** trim)
I’m tryna *** her face ’cause I’m a pimp (Niggas ain’t him)
Ain’t here to conversate, you gotta strip (Gotta strip)
I *** her with my .40 on the dresser
Yes, sir
Do you love me? Yes, sir
***, you better, yes, sir
Stack your cheese, yes, sir
Lot of cheddar, yes, sir
*** me better, yes, sir
Can you be my Cinderella? Yes, sir
Gotta drop them clothes, yes, sir (Uh-huh)
Rick Owen walkin’, slick pimp talkin’
Pockets filled up, money fallin’
Pop out fresh to death, coffin
Lil’ ***, you don’t see this often (Uh-uh)
Everybody right here bosses
We go wherever whenever, when we get together, it’s twenty hoes tryna *** all us
Might pick her up in the Spectre, she thinkin’ she special, I drop her, I ain’t gon’ call her
I done pulled up in some *** like a 911, I hop out, look like I’m crawlin’
We in the spot and it’s lit, fine *** in the section, the whole clique already dogged
And I tell ’em, “If we all lit, it’s better, we’d probably have a ball”
Big Ski, who you know P like me? MOB ’til I D-I-E
Your main sleazy might get involved, then she end up in VIP (Go)
And I’m trim seven days a week, so I’m him on and off IG
‘Cause I been in a different league, play with M’s, *** is twenty G’s? (Yeah, uh)
Uh, twenty bands on him (On him, yeah)
Fifty bands on him (On him, yeah)
Hundred bands on them (Oh, that’s a hundred bands)
You speak them words, you gotta stand on them (Lil’ ***, I overstand)
Walk down with fire and rep the brand on him (Gon’ always rep the brand, frr)
These hoes gon’ *** off face ’cause my *** trim (My *** trim)
I’m tryna *** her face ’cause I’m a pimp (Niggas ain’t him)
Ain’t here to conversate, you gotta strip (Gotta strip)
I *** her with my .40 on the dresser
Yes, sir
Do you love me? Yes, sir
***, you better, yes, sir
Stack your cheese, yes, sir
Lot of cheddar, yes, sir
*** me better, yes, sir
Can you be my Cinderella? Yes, sir
Gotta drop them clothes, yes, sir
