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Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Larry E. Gates II
Songwriter
Eugene E Bellmon Jr
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Larry E. Gates II
Mixing Engineer
James Treichler
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Where that candy you can smell through the wrapper
I'm not a scammer I'm a full-time trapper
Trust none so I'm riding wit dat hammer
Flash out and make 'em smile for the camera
So what's the word que pasa
Yeah I want the chips no salsa
Yeah money long, two commas
Smoking on that grade A rastas
Gettin' shit accomplished
Gettin' paid like homage now
I'm strictly business no nonsense
Only thing I'm trusting is the process
Everyday progress
I do it for the people fuck the congress
They calling me the truth but it's true
To be honest
I ain't gotta lie like these small fries
Look me in my eyes
Never broke a promise
I can make that fire take flight like a comet
The city never dry keep it flooded, tsunami
I run a couple spots always on like Johnny
The money coming in feel good shit's sunny
I sold alotta halves but I'm keepin' it a hunnit
I came with plenty money but I love it if you front it
Now put me in rotation comeback every Sunday
Now Lord have mercy
This playa need a jersey
The way he play the game
Like damn near perfect
The situation urgent cuz it's dry at the moment
I ain't tryna sound thirsty but
Where that candy you can smell thru the wrapper
I'm not a scammer I'm a full-time trapper
Trust none so I'm riding wit dat hammer
Flash out and make 'em smile for the camera
Where that candy you can smell thru the wrapper
I'm not a scammer I'm a full-time trapper
Trust none so I'm riding wit dat hammer
I flash out and make you smile for the camera
So what's the word que pasa
Yeah I brought the chips no salsa
Yeah money long, two commas
I'm looking for dat grade A honors
Whoever can accomplish gettin' paid like homage, now
Migo on the way
Wit a truckload
Boatload
Sprinter van
Mini van
Really ain't no middle man
Watching from the stands
You a fan ain't even the game
How could I explain
Simply plain we ain't built the same
Told ya place ya order and my holder
Getcha anything
We be flipping quarters
Across the boarder
This shit, gravy train
Big bags overflowing
Blow it, tell em keep the change
Everytime I drop it's a hit
Aint even gotta aim
Bang
I hit the bull eye, accuracy
I'm the last Don
There will be none after me
Word on the streets
Police wanna capture me
Tell em good luck
I got they captain on the salary
Where that candy you can smell thru the wrapper
I'm not a scammer I'm a full-time trapper
Trust none so I'm riding wit dat hammer
Flash out and make 'em smile for the camera
Where that candy you can smell thru the wrapper
I'm not a scammer I'm a full-time trapper
Trust none so I'm riding wit dat hammer
Flash out and make you smile for the camera
Writer(s): Eugene Bellmon Jr
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