(Oh Lord, Jetson made another one)

I fuck up the money counter
Fuck on that ho then give her right back, I ain't got no manners
We pull up with chops, then chop the block, I bet they like candles
Line of fire, with Gucci socks, I'm drippin' in Traplanta
Pops on the block with a big Glock, yeah, we in Traplanta
Watch what you doin', watch what you say, we in Traplanta
What we gettin' payed? 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, don't say no names, homie
I know a real bully, you can't tame, homie
In a NASCAR, fast car, that's a Trackhawk
Vibed out with nothin' but broads (huh)
Goddamn, broke the money counter (huh)
Goin' in, 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, off pills and all the Xans

I fuck up the money counter
Fuck on that ho then give her right back, I ain't got no manners
We pull up with chops, then chop the block, I bet they like candles
Line of fire, with Gucci socks, I'm drippin' in Traplanta
Pops on the block with a big Glock, yeah, we in Traplanta
Watch what you doin', watch what you say, we in Traplanta
What we gettin' payed? 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 mama askin' for it, so I tie it off
Get what she want, it don't matter (woo)
On the stove, remixin' the brick, tricks of bein' a hunter
I ain't a nigga gotta trick the bitch, the mall got too many hookers
If he ever play with these racks, shit, he gotta be a dummy
Yeah, I know my folks gon' tassle, 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 though, I cannot stand ya
So you better watch who you trust, nigga, Traplanta
Fuck ya ho, we don't lust, nigga, Traplanta

I fuck up the money counter (slimeball)
Fuck on that ho then give her right back, I ain't got no manners
We pull up with chops, then chop the block, I bet they like candles
Line of fire, with Gucci socks, I'm drippin' in Traplanta
Pops on the block with a big Glock, yeah, we in Traplanta
Watch what you doin', watch what you say, we in Traplanta
What we gettin' payed? I'm servin' them Js, boy, in Traplanta
We get paid, homie, we get laid, homie

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Ian Wells, Raqhid Jevon Render, Tahj Morgan