Classic Trap lyrics

[Intro: Zay Loco]
Aye
Aye

[Verse 1: Zay Loco]
I like new sh*t and old sh*t
This beat make me so sick
Codeine is so thick, I’m leanin’ like “oh sh*t”
Money, can’t fold it and pockets can’t hold it
Smokin’ on dope man, this sh*t is so potent
Stank like a rodent and fatties I roll it
Getting so high, can’t remember the moment
Rap ‘cause I do this, these n*ggas be foolish
I got so much talent, we gon’ make it to it
Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye
These n*ggas is average, make money like magic
I spit all these flames, I will burn you like matches
My n*ggas they savage, they all keep a ratchet
We don’t duck no action, so link and its crackin’
I swear you could have it, my team we bring havoc
I hit you like cashiers, he flick like a mattress
These n*ggas so sheep, they be softer than fabric
Lil Juice, he up next, he freestylin’, he wildin’
Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye

[Interlude: Juice WRLD]
Hey Zay bro
We finna kill these n*ggas, man
They ain’t sh*t bro, for real
Imma show these motherf*ckers what’s up
Aye
[Verse 2: Juice WRLD]
Whole time, I was on some different sh*t
n*ggas talking dumb until I pull up where his house is
Run up in that b*tch and now he quiet like a mouse is
Prolly run up in your house and f*ck your f*cking spouse quick
Then I hit the car, boy
Whole time, I’m rolling off the bars in the car, boy
Spitting bars, off the bars, I can make it far, boy
I’ll be on Mars, yeah, pourin' in the car, boy
Curry, that’s a .30 on my hip, don’t get scarred, boy
Aye, I play the game but I don’t play games
These n*ggas lame, run up on me b*tch I bet I change frames
Get it? My Glock got a picture, my mouth got a swisher
You run up, or you fake like illusions
Ain’t nothing else to it
I’ve been getting money since day one
My brother locked up, won’t let him out like Akon
The whole time I’m 18, b*tch I’m like 'ay dog'
These n*ggas want that snake sauce, turn ‘em to Nate Dogg
Now who the f*ck these n*ggas think they is though?
I’m handlin’ my biz, smokin’ this reefer like Khalifa
I’m not a Wiz, ho
You run up on me, yeah I got the Glock out the window
Nerdy brain from your b*tch, ain’t talkin’ about Winslow
Woah, now let me go ahead and spit it
I’m Stevie Wonder with this sh*t
You n*ggas can’t see visions
I’m in the cut, motherf*cker ain’t talking scissors
b*tches like O.Z, and I ain’t talkin’ about wizard
[Outro]
Go figure