Trap Rapper lyrics

[Intro: Pros AP]
(Enrgy made this one)
Island Boys, b*tch (Island Boys)
We them Youngest n*ggas Winnin', b*tch (YNW)
Yeah, yeah (n*gga, it's f*ck you)
Pros

[Verse 1: Pros AP]
Fifty 'bows on the floor, b*tch, I'll drive with no L's (Fifty of 'em)
You ain't never weighed a thousand-eight grams with no scale (n*gga, no, you haven't)
I'll cancel out some pus*y just to go and hit a sale (I swear to God)
Out of town sellin' work, they thought I left to sign a deal (Haha)
Hell naw, Pros back trappin', in that field active (I'm active)
I'm a young Black n*gga servin' all the rich crackers
Fifty thousand all pink fifties, look like lil' Patrick (Patrick)
n*gga, trappin' ain't dead, these n*ggas scared to be some trappers (Nigas scared)
I been in this fiеld a week straight runnin' to the pape' (Yeah, yеah)
You been on the 'Gram a week straight tryna bust your name (You a corn)
I ain't tryna knock a n*gga hustle, get it any way
Get off your ass and make a play, I can trap in any state (I can trap in any state, n*gga)

[Chorus: Pros AP]
I'm a trap rapper, gram slapper, trap-door slammer
I'm a bad-b*tch stabber, Mr. Hit Her Friend After (Yeah)
I'm a dog, a b*tch playin' me can never happen (A b*tch playin' me can never happen, n*gga)
b*tch, I'm Pros, a guy that get money, I ain't your last n*gga (Pros)
[Verse 2: Pros AP]
I get up and make the money
sh*t, my mama want a crib with a pool in South Dakota (I gotta get it)
sh*t, I gotta get it in (I gotta grind)
Every rack I make, I gotta hit the crib and stash it in
Bro be trippin', he woke up and said, "I'm 'bout to cash a Benz" (Cash another one)
Dropped a pint on every drill, we'll drive wherever (Uh-huh)
My cousin f*ckin' with the opps, well, they gon' die together (He gon' die with 'em)
Ayy, speakin' on Lil Ched gon' make us spin tonight (Spin tonight, n*gga)
Stop playin' like Moo wasn't slumped inside that whip on Nada Drive
Sos caught a headshot, crashed out at DD safe (With his b*tch ass)
PM caught a neck shot and tried to snitch before he died (n*gga, you a rat)
Two strikers, eight demons, send that lo' and we gon' be there (We gon' come)
These n*ggas hoes, they keep bendin' on some females (Why y'all doin' that?)
At eighteen, we was trappin' out a 4Matic (Out the Benz)
Last ninety days, b*tch, I blew four Pateks (Four of 'em)
We'll spin a n*gga block and hit a show after (Bible)
The type to leave a n*gga head on his man's Hefty (On his man's Hefty)
Uh, she gon' f*ck off the chain, plus I got money, I got dummy rolls (Yes, sir)
Twenty thousand ain't sh*t, I got that sh*t in clothes (Uh, no)
I heard your mans tried to run, but it was switch on bro (Hah)
I heard your mans got popped and went and snitched on folks (Brrah, brrah, brrah, b*tch)

[Verse 3: Skilla Baby]
House so rich, I stay away from the hook, huh
All my b*tches thick like Tae vs. Brooke
I'm always gettin' money, boy, I stay f*ckin' booked
n*gga play with Lil Tre, he gon' get his ass cooked (Huh)
All my b*tches fine as hell
Real known in the trap, I should sign my scale
Real get-money n*gga, I buy and sell
b*tches love f*ckin' me, they know I won't tell, huh
I hate n*ggas
Aubrey Graham, I be tryna Drac' n*ggas
I be tryna get real violent with fake n*ggas (Huh)
Brodie turn his food to a knife, he'll shank n*ggas (Huh)
In the Hellcat, me and five hundred racks
On the Lodge, I just did five hundred laps
In the trap tryna sell five hundred packs
My young n*gga scam, he just caught five hundred jacks, huh
How you n*ggas tryna beef, ain't got no bread?
I know I'ma still eat if I go fed
n*gga, quit talkin' to me with your broke ass
You ain't really violent with your ho ass
Man, this sh*t on the floor, J-Lopez
My n*gga'll take a n*gga under for no cash, huh