Lil Keed – Traplanta lyrics

Oh Lord, Jetson made another one

I fucked up the money counter
I fuck on that ho and give her right back, I ain’t got no manners
We pull up with chops, they tryna pop, I bet they like candles
Nine to five, with Gucci socks, I’m drippin’ in Traplanta
Pops on the block with a big Glock, yeah, we in Traplanta
What was you doin’? What would you say? We in Traplanta
What was you payin’? I’m servin’ them Js, boy, in Traplanta
We get paid, homie, we get laid, homie

I’m with real right hoes who ain’t gon’ change on me
I got real shooters, won’t say no names, homie
I know a real bully, you can’t tame, homie
In a NASCAR, fast car, that’s a track hop
Vibed out with nothin’ but broads (Huh)
Goddamn, broke the money counter (Huh)
Got my name, we don’t care ’bout cameras (Huh)
He get that dope back, call ’em Arm & Hammer (Huh)
Shit, that’s all I’m sayin’, I’m signin’ all the deals, nigga, I don’t even want the plan
Have you ever seen that molly color khakhi pants?
Keep on playin’, I bet your brother be dyin’ in your hands
I’m with DYN, I’m spazzin’ off the Xans

I fucked up the money counter
I fuck on that ho and give her right back, I ain’t got no manners
We pull up with chops, they tryna pop, I bet they like candles
Nine to five, with Gucci socks, I’m drippin’ in Traplanta
Pops on the block with a big Glock, yeah, we in Traplanta
What was you doin’? What would you say? We in Traplanta
What was you payin’? I’m servin’ them Js, boy, in Traplanta
We get paid, homie, we get laid, homie

Trap house, fuck this shit, I’m ridin’ in the trap house
My momma askin’ for it, so I tad off, give her what she want, it don’t matter (Woo)
On the stove, we mixin’ a brick, tricks of bein’ a hunter
I know a nigga that tricked a bitch, that boy two many hookers
If he ever play with them racks, shit, he gotta be a dummy
Yeah, I know my folks gon’ tat some, so I load up my number
Yeah, I’m in Traplanta, yeah, we pour some many fours in the fuckin’ Fanta
Boy, I know you fuckin’ told, I cannot stand ya
So you better watch for your trust, nigga, Traplanta
Fuck a ho, we don’t lust, nigga, Traplanta

I fucked up the money counter
I fuck on that ho and give her right back, I ain’t got no manners
We pull up with chops, they tryna pop, I bet they like candles
Nine to five, with Gucci socks, I’m drippin’ in Traplanta
Pops on the block with a big Glock, yeah, we in Traplanta
What was you doin’? What would you say? We in Traplanta
What was you payin’? I’m servin’ them Js, boy, in Traplanta
We get paid, homie, we get laid, homie