Lyrics From the Bottom - CEO Trayle

Yea yea
Go
Yea

From the bottom we did it but,
We was just 4th and some inches
Had to shop like a fifty
Mr. Kick door off the hinges
Mr. Chop off the top with the quickness
Mr. Block off the block with the Bentleys
You know my bitch and my Glock get extensions
We was tryna see who get the richest
Mr. Gift of Gab who get the bitches
Get the twelves and break them down to sixes
With the gold on my neck like Egyptians
Mr. Stand on the edge and he tilted
Put that bread on his head and they clipped it
Poured a deuce of that red and I sipped it
I been finessing this rap shit milked it

Bought the sheets on my bed but I silked it
One Oh Eight till I'm dead kus I built it
Put a Oh After That, then a Oh After That
Then a comma then add three more oh's
Car a four seater I add three more hoes
Santa Backdoor, Mr Craxkflow
Kick at that door
Pick up that dough
Get so much money I said fuck a show
Niggas can't say that I said fuck the bro's
We was broke we was swapping out shoes and the clothes
We was popping up, popping out
I had you rocking out
Where in the fuck would you be without Four
They thinking he sold his soul
I was balling like I'm tryna go pro
And if I could go why the fuck wouldn't I go
Stack it up and I know
That it was gone pay off eventually
That's why I can't show these niggas no sympathy
I'm still the same nigga, know you remember me
I be trim they be calling me Trimothy
Bitch know I'm HIM
She be calling me Himothy
Pick up Jasmine we go to Busy Bee
He a has been
One of them niggas that wanted they ass kissed
Type to talk but wasn't never in action
Choppa sing and we call it Ms. Braxton
Get the dope and we cut it like classes
I was going Tom Ford on my glasses
Paid the flights and we board all the passes
Nigga play so I turned him to ashes
Beat the pot Mr. Ali he Cassius
I know you heard what happened that tragic
Prolly still be alive but they gassed it Four

From the bottom we did it but
We was just fourth and some inches
Had to shop like a fifty
Mr. Kick door of the hinges
Mr. Chop off the top with the quickness
Mr. Block off the block with the Bentley's
You know my bitch and my Glock get extensions
We was tryna see who get the richest
Mr. Gift of gab who get the bitches
Get the twelves and break them down to sixes
With the gold on my neck like Egyptians
Mr. Stand on the edge and he tilted
Put that bread on his head and they clipped it
Poured a deuce of that red and I sipped it
I been finessing this rap shit milked it