1] Trap in my belly, free my nigga Really Elijah smoking that smelly, is in the telly Blind bitch name Shelly, dick her belly I met that at a fashion show, she was rocking Margiela I was Quasey Casey rocking all that Versace be in there sailing, smoking that Beijing Ten in my pocket, for no reason I got it Fuck around and hit Sin City, tell bitch to pop it What's up with you and I ain't into all of that gossip He brought the funk into my crew, you gotta ask about it All I is A$AP riding in them Maybachs 40. cal, we that, when AK brratt you take nap Oh, Lord, that Hood Pope - oh, Lord, that Trap Why call you Trap Lord? Cause you a rap lord to my casket I ain't bowing to no time, Hood on my gold shine My niggas wanna tote nine, but we talk rhyme I 'em hold up
All I know is that Lord, that Hood Pope All I know is that Trap Lord, but you're a rap to my casket All I know is that fast Porsche that good smoke Model bitch who from Brazil, she it on her culo Riding 'round the city feeling P. Diddy 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac and no Biggie Riding 'round the city feeling P.Diddy 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac and no Biggie
2] No reply when you call Lord, mama cry her throat soar Liechtenstein when I drunk [?] you was dying in this war Body left the staircase courtesy of the whole mob Don't mean no fucking thing when I up in that Goyard Shooked up from that toe star, ask like Nardwuar Like can you feel your fucking I bet that nigga cannot walk Persian bitch coke hard, sniff white 'till her nose soft I fucked bitch with no rubber, cause that bitch be so raw Puff-puff the semi huff, nigga really gonna pop Trunks when you see me duck, niggas really Y'all punks see the God trap, truly Lord And I click Donkey Kong when I hit this long Better run when you see the mob, you be God Hear the drum when my niggas march, you see Allah You the son of a bitch nigga, you a broad You a bitch, little bitch nigga, probably bras