EMAC-Money – Trap On Fye

********************HOOK**************************
Stuffing up dat bag
Stuffing up dat bag
I be
Running thru a sack
Ballin like im DaK
I be stuffing up that bag
Stuffing up that bag
I be
Running thru a sack balling like in dak
Fiends in n outta the trap till da door gone
Cookin dope wit a versace robe on
Give a fuck nigga wat i dont owe nun
Trap on fye like i left the stove on

TRAP ON FYE, trap on Fye, trap on Fye, trap on Fye trap on fye

Hoe nigga keep yo drugs
I brought my own shit
N i dont need yo plug
I get my own bricks
Broke nigga keep yo bread
I got my own grind
Won’t ever speak to feds
I do my my own time
(Lil bitty nigga) *adlib

Trap on Fye, Trap on Fye, trap on Fye, trap on Fye
(Get down, ahhhhrrrr) *adlib

**********************VERSE************************
From the bottom to the top
From 50 bucks in a tin can
To 2 racks and 10 grams
To who on my dick next…
Cmon bitch i do this …
Step up if the shoes fits…
Yall fold in the clutch
Like chris paul when u shooting
All on my own doe
Big lit got his own flow
Make yo chick my new bitch
Then skeet on my old hoe
You real then it don’t show
You bitch and I know so
We raise hell like stone cold
Bitch don’t play wit grown folk (hoe nigga hoe nigga) *adlib
N u ca keep ya 2cents Cuz im rich as fuk
Already lit and too bent When i hit the club
These niggas hate on bullshit
Cuz I run it up
Mac Swang that pool stick get a hole in one
Stuffing up that bag
Running up dem racks
Got a bitch dats bad
Countin cash
You ain’t rowdy fuck Nigga
Catch a contact
93 da gas
Chopper blatttt
Pussy wanna crash
I be for it fuck nigga
Amiris on my ass
U can’t afford these broke nigga
Dropped 1000 grams
Damn near burnt down the kitchen
Bricks on my hands
When I’m whipping the chicken g
Stepped down he ran
Send him up when we catch him (Yeahhhh) *adlib
Kill the fuckin game This the take over
Gucci on my frames behind my shades rolling
Said you want a real Nigga well I’m here shorty
Sold 100 thangs in these air Jordan’s
Fuck niggas not my type I never listen to ‘em
All about that gwap
My fingers itching for it
If you chop the whole thang that’s a different story
Got real Niggas that will burn you
And just get deported
And then bounce back
Blow a whole once sack
40 on my waist in Saks fifth while I drop stacks
Cleaner than AC bitch
Maro sport with the top back
Shawty neck great
She suck it up like a shop vac
Been the fuckin man in my city kid
Tryna cop a vacant lot next to Diddy crib
Nigga better keep it straight don’t do iffy biz
That 4-5 dessert E will twist a nigga lid (ba, ba, ba) *adlib
Real Niggas never cross over
Camo shorts for my dawgs cuz we all soldiers
I don’t play about my paper I merk hoes
No insurance in the glove box that’s birds hoe (yeah) *adlib
**********************HOOK************************
Stuffing up dat bag
Stuffing up dat bag
I be
Running thru a sack
Ballin like im DaK
I be stuffing up that bag
Stuffing up that bag
I be
Running thru a sack balling like in dak
Fiends in n outta the trap till da door gone
Cookin dope wit a versace robe on
Give a fuck nigga wat i dont owe nun
Trap on fye like i left the stove on

TRAP ON FYE, trap on Fye, trap on Fye, trap on Fye trap on fye

Hoe nigga keep yo drugs
I brought my own shit
N i dont need yo plug
I get my own bricks
Broke nigga keep yo bread
I got my own grind
Won’t ever speak to feds
I do my my own time
(Lil bitty nigga) *adlib

Trap on Fye, Trap on Fye, trap on Fye, trap on Fye
(Get down, aggghhwehgrr) *adlib