Lyrics:
a mutt
Can’t fuck wit a treesha can’t fuck wit a slut
I be smokin on trees when i’m up in da club
Bitch I really be posted like trees wit a trunk
And I
make the world slow
[Chorus]
You can find me in my hood, swangin' in the drop
Trunk popped up, now I'm lettin' back the top
Loc's on my face,
betcha never thought you would here it like this
Some funk for the trunk by this nigga named Kris
See, I ain't into the game
I'm true to the gang
Yu hate me nah dat ain't likely
Ima big dawg Yu lil pissy puppies can't do nothin wit me
Talkin beef well I got shells wit me nigga by da plenty
Dis
by far ho
Da chopper spell my name out in yo Monte Carlo
Suggest you keep it cool, keep it on da up and up
Get yo front on da scope, and yo chest gone
fitted Von Dutch
Feisty told me don't touch
Eat me up schedule brunch
All those oppers we hunt
Purple syrup in cup hair of trunks
Most of these niggas jus
and destruction
Got niggas livin by the gun
So make way here I come, its da bitch that
Don't give a fuck
You make another move ya get fucked up
'cause
Already bitch
Trunk full of yay bitch, PA to H Town nigga
Get on yo' money motherfucker
It's really goin down in the South
Sweet Jones biatch!
(Uh)
up on da road
Paranoid got drugs
Just tryna make it home
Couple pillows in da trunk
Thinkin bout makin paper
Then its makin more paper
I popcorn ma
Smokey I'm tripping
My bags in the front so my trunk is the engine
I push it to start and jump out to quit
I came out da blue like Ebola and hit
I
dead presis
But I never vote
I started wit nuthn now look at da growth
I paint a picture no easel
Pounds in da trunk like freezer
I get dem bags Dey da
B Side, B side, ha, check it
So, So Def Bad Boy collaboration
The Notorious BIG in the house
We got Da Brat in the house
And me, y'all know who I be
Wanging in the city and I Brought my little shorty
Got the drako in the back and She carryin a 40
Spray you niggas we da skunks This shit make me
Couldn't wait I was determined
We would pull to my grandma house
Presents in the trunk
Everybody in the family out
Music finna bump
Was only one thing on my
of you lames
To hard to be in this rap shit in da streets it's da same
To throwed up in this game
To true to my hood
I'm to down to get down
So lets
wie das Nestlè-Emblem (blem)
Xenon und Keramikbremsen, wehende Versace-Hemden
In entlegenen Chalets (Chalets)
In der Gegend von Kalabrien
Sehe
No talkin', no fussin', no flossin', we shootin' to kill
Ya momma, ya daddy, ya aunts and ya uncle and children
Boyz N Da Hood in the cutty, keep
No talkin', no fussin', no flossin', we shootin' to kill
Ya momma, ya daddy, ya aunts and ya uncle and children
Boyz N Da Hood in the cutty, keep
had a bag of luggage in the trunk
You can ask about me I ain't ever been a punk
Keepin it 100 I'm jus tryna get a buck
Everything I've dreamt of slowly
But surving here is must
I can here the bass in my trunk
Boomin out the back seat hear the Face in the trunk I'm facing a blunt
Writing in my diary
still here some met they fate
Fear of gods for heaven sake
Walk innat bitch like trunks
Walk innat bitch might goten
Walk innat bitch like unk
Walk innat
trunk full of cash
Hammers in the stash, scanners in the dash
Radar detectors, troopers can't find us
We bubble down ATL and hit the 'Linas
Then get
get ya own suppa
Make me go off in the trunk get da bonecrusher
tec's ak's i leave da scene ugly
Chest head face - arm leg stomach
I neva been afraid I
the trunk, fuck Trump, now he stuck, pop up, this bitch pop penicillin
Got no love love no hoe, hold on no no ain't no killing in him
Met him at tha Golo,
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