paroles de chanson Fuck Da Opps - Young Trez

Slatty slatt
And we still working
We bout a thousand
Miles away the trap
Still serving the
Country boy he on
The way we tax em
Do em dirty
It aint no love
In these streets
You n****s playin
Dirty you got sum
N****s really poppin
They wont give ya
A dime dont let em
Trick ya off the
Streetz dem crackers
Given out time
And ima hustle
For everything i
Gotta get what's mind
I gotta see you
Want the paper
Before
I give out mines
Ya feel me

Peep the opps
Hit em up
Sent the rental bak
Hit la on a jet
Smokin cali pack
Blowin opps to
The face he ain
Comin back
Im just trying
Chase my paper
I can get ya whacked
This n****s talking
S**t we spin da s**t
All days of the week
I never f**k wit
No n***a who can
Plot on the weak
These n****s pose to
Be ya gang but
N****s trying compete
These n****s pose to
Be ya gang but
N****s trying compete
See when we was
On that avenue
We did what
We had to do
What we had to do
Slatty slatt dopeboy
Rollie cause my
Wrist i got it
Out the mudd
Chun ya block
Down til i see
A ton of blood
I see ah opp
I gotta eat
I got real love
For da guys
I creep up on
Ya block wit switches
P***y what ah
Suprise i keep it
Real in the trenches
Put my hood on
My back I choose
Loyalty over love
I really thug
Wit my n****s
I shoot up clubs
Wit my n****s
I take off plugs
I stood on block
Wit my n****s
We really squeezin
Our triggers
Once again
F**k the opps
We head of the race
F**k my h**
She tricking she
Ah registration
Catch ya wit the
Opps she hit up
This aint up fa
Debate im really
Havin real killers
Eat ya up like
A Steak
But ima keep it
Cool big p
I still break the
Rules we caught
That lil boy
Down bad we put
That boy on the news
Dont give ah f**k
Bout what you did
I gotta clap at ya
Top you n****s
Had the ups on us
Yall p****s still
Aint gone pop
We caught ya boy
Down bad we had
To eat his face
You 20deep
We 5 deep
You n****s did
The race
F**k ah n***a
I want see em
At the finish line
Its slatt bizness
We gone stand
On all 10
Everytime

And we still working
We bout a thousand
Miles away the trap
Still serving the
Country boy he on
The way we tax em
Do em dirty
It aint no love
In these streets
You n****s playing
Dirty you got sum
N****s really popping
They wont give ya
A dime dont let em
Trick ya off the
Streetz dem crackers
Given out time
And ima hustle
For everything i
Gotta get whats mind
I gotta see you
Want the paper
Before
I give out mines
Ya feel me
And i stand on
Everything im talkin
Bout n***a
And no cap in
None of this s**t
Im talking bout
N***a f**k you
N***a yall n****s
Know what the
F**k goin on
Wit us N***a
Yall n****s know
What the f**k yall
Can do n***a
Suck ah d**k
And die p***y