Top Songs By Trdee
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
BabyTron
Vocals
Trdee
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
James Edward Johnson III
Songwriter
Lyrics
(Damn, JakeSand)
(Rotto)
ShittyBoyz
Thousand dollar mic, you can probably hear me think
Only face za, bougie bitch don't wanna drink
Roll full of blues, you might see a couple pink
Tryna ride the wave? I hope you ready if you sink
Okay, snow bunny, blew her back out, the cat I salute
Told her I'm the one but always shitting like the number two
I'll ho you if the neck ain't coming, I ain't family, boo
You can leave me 'lone or by my lonely when I'm thumbing through
Running dog shit up, the only way is towards a million
Runtz turned me to a Skywalker, got some force up in me
Shoot through whatever, feel like Kobe with the torn achilles
Catch me jack catching in yo hood, I got bored with giffies
Sleeve Nash, I'll pass this bitch, I got scorers with me
Punched the wrong size Amiris, never mind, these sorta fit me
Two thousand beans, he ain't gon' count 'em, we gon' short him sixty
I think all my opps forgot that I got the torch in Ypsi
I'ma see a mil' before I'm fifty
I can run it up, I do it swiftly
Huh, left that nigga red, we named him "Trippie"
Incognito in the store, I'm sliding giffies
It ain't no one hitter quitter, BINs smack for combos
At the self-scanner dunking chips, Bismack Biyombo
Bitch said I'm cheating like I swear I been at the condo
Sent her on jack trip and told that bitch, "Stack 'em pronto"
Dame Time, what you need? I'll always come through in a clutch
Niggas broke for Christmas, tell yo mama that you need a crutch
If my bitch look through my phone, she gon' beat me up
Seen he had a little dilly chain, got my piece from Hutch
I caught him out with girly, that's not his bitch
Flat booty bitch, I won't ever switch
Big Balenciaga Track.2s, she can't spell my kicks
Flashy fucker, I'll up some blues for the hell of it
Baby, let me get between, they won't know I hit
Dawg swear he getting money, I ain't notice it
New method hit for 2K, this bitch so legit
That lil' bitch got a hunnid bodies, you was 'posed to hit
I really had her in a room hitting notes and shit
You ain't never shot a gun but posting sticks
A hunnid dollar eighth, you don't smoke this shit
A thousand dollar pistol, you don't tote this blick
Bitch, ayy
A hundred dollar eighth, you don't smoke this shit
A thousand dollar pistol, you don't tote this blick
Ayy, ShittyBoyz
Writer(s): James Johnson
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