Lyrics TrapMania (feat. Gucci Mane & Cootie) - Gucci Mane , Cootie , BiC Fizzle
(Tay
Keith,
fuck
these
niggas
up)
1017,
"So
Icey
Boys"
That
boy
Fizzle
870
trench
baby,
you
know
the
struggle
raised
me
Bein'
broke
ain't
turned
me
down,
that
shit
just
got
me
motivated
Ivory
loud,
got
on
my
shit
and
put
my
foot
on
all
my
haters
(uh-huh)
Money
stackin'
up
in
layers,
look
like
I
play
for
the
Lakers
(well
damn)
We
gon'
fuck
from
nine
to
five
like
this
yo'
job,
or
I'ma
trade
ya
I
won't
waste
none
of
yo'
time
or
mine,
I'd
rather
chase
some
paper
Trappin'
too
hard
in
the
hood,
I'm
gettin'
complaints
from
all
the
neighbors
(woo)
Like
that
young
nigga
too
hot
out
here,
he
got
so
many
flavors
I
worked
hard
for
what
I
got,
so
I
won't
let
no
nigga
take
it
(no)
Wock'
mix
with
my
phantom
pop
(it
got
me
movin'
like
the
matrix)
Know
this
shit
1K
4L,
see,
we
got
millions
on
the
table
.223
find
our
traces,
cross
that
line
and
Fizzle
face
it
(boom)
(Shh,
who's
that?)
It's
the
cooter
(huh)
Grab
the
fork
and
twerk
it,
twist
it,
twirl
it
like
some
noodles
(woo,
skrrt)
I'm
a
big
dog,
fuck,
I
look
like
runnin'
with
some
poodles?
You
might
think
this
was
a
pool
hall,
just
look
at
all
these
shooters
(damn)
It's
a
celebration,
bitch,
another
trapper
made
it
(ah,
ah,
yeah)
My
hoe
jealous,
bruh,
I
think
my
plug
even
hatin'
(ah,
ah,
ah,
wow)
I'm
tired
of
niggas
fuckin'
up,
then
cryin'
'cause
they
can't
pay
me
(fuck
outta
here)
They
don't
know
who
did
it,
but
the
nigga
family
still
hate
me
(what?)
You
can't
tell
us
nothin',
bitch
(no),
you
see
we
made
it
out
them
trenches
In
the
game
ballin'
hard,
bitch,
we
finally
off
them
benches
(go)
The
caption
read,
"We
winnin'",
with
the
trophy
on
the
endin'
(woo)
My
girl
jealous,
say
the
Glock
get
more
attention
than
extended
(go)
I
can
show
you
how
to
flip
a
50
to
a
million
(yeah)
I
got
the
Midas
touch,
they
say
I'm
somethin'
like
a
magician
(voilà)
I
dropped
the
top,
I'm
chillin',
now
my
car
ain't
got
no
ceilin'
(phew)
Don't
put
yo'
hands
on
guwop
or
yo'
limbs
won't
have
no
feelin'
(damn)
CEO
'bout
business,
it's
been
blushin'
'bout
this
pendant
And
you
can't
work
the
brand
unless
you
gon'
stand
on
the
business
I
can't
take
you
serious,
it's
all
fiction
in
yo'
lyrics
(damn)
Yo'
rap
so
fuckin'
cap,
not
even
yo'
partner
wanna
hear
it
(wow)
Straight
from
Arkansas,
just
gave
these
young
niggas
a
chance
(yeah)
And
how
you
call
them
country
when
my
young
niggas
got
bands?
(Racks)
We
ballin'
in
Miami,
yeah,
I'm
rockin'
with
the
clan
(go)
And
I
can't
do
no
dancin',
all
this
money
in
my
pants
(Gucci)
Hah
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