PRADA MASK lyrics

[Intro]
Man, that f*ck n*gga do somethin', man
That n*gga just moved in (Zaytoven) and got all that traffic comin' in and out of that motherf*cker, man
He doin' somethin' (Trauma Tone) and I can't put my flinger on it

[Chorus]
n*ggas walkin' in my spot, leavin' out with grocery bags
I buy my hoes Bottega bags, rob a n*gga in a Prada mask
Come here, baby, your fine ass, come here, baby, your sexy ass
I can't fall for none of these hoes, n*gga, nice guys finish last
sh*t get greasy on my side, n*gga, quit talkin', come outside
Used to fight at Golden Glide, trap spot on Memorial Drive
We put weed in cereal boxes, we put opps in wooden coffins
Exhale good 'za out our nostrils, we put diamonds in our goblets

[Verse]
Ask my girl how much I shoot, taught my kids to do it too
Go ask Roc how many sticks I bought, that n*gga seen the proof
All my cribs is modern, all my b*tches pretty as hell, n*gga
All my cars is foreign and them b*tches fast as hell, n*gga
I turn street n*gga to victims, lay sh*t down, n*gga, I'm the victor
Every day I dodge the system, my young Oakland n*gga bippin'
My young b*tch be flippin' houses, I f*ck doctors and accountants
I know growers in the mountains, I'm too big to sell you ounces
I'm too big to sell you sevens, some of my n*gga done lost they soul
They too evil to go to Heaven, I just modified this cutter
Watch me work this MAC-11, rich-ass plug, my floor is marble
I got packs and wooden parcels, so many Ps, my play startled
Bae, don't talk too much, I'm high, n*ggas ain't eatin', they phones dry
Used to take change to Coinstar, now I got like eight cars
Damn, lil' bae, you look scrumptious, 12 hit the lights, we take off buttons
n*gga, I drink on Tris and Wock', I don't sip on tea and crumpets
All my ex-hoes still want me, all my ex-girls stay in sample
n*gga, come play with my herd, he gon' get his b*tch ass trample
I know smackers on Panola, I know smackers in Stone Mountain
My partner dropped them racks off yesterday, and, n*gga, I'm still countin', let's go
[Bridge]
Man, hold up, come here, come here, look at this sh*t
Man, this n*gga got Lambs, TRXs, and Jailbreaks
n*gga, Mercedes trucks pullin' up, man
n*gga leavin' up out that b*tch with Duffel, bookbags
Man, that f*ck n*gga got somethin' goin' on, I'm tellin' you, man
I know a trap n*gga when I see one, man
A n*gga can't fool me
Where that n*gga say he was from?
Oh, Decatur? He from the Eastside?
I bet that n*gga got low numbers on them b*tches
Where them n*ggas pullin' up?
Man, that n*gga numbers gots to be low

[Chorus]
n*ggas walkin' in my spot, leavin' out with grocery bags
I buy my hoes Bottega bags, rob a n*gga in a Prada mask
Come here, baby, your fine ass, come here, baby, your sexy ass
I can't fall for none of these hoes, n*gga, nice guys finish last
sh*t get greasy on my side, n*gga, quit talkin', come outside
Used to fight at Golden Glide, trap spot on Memorial Drive
We put weed in cereal boxes, we put opps in wooden coffins
Exhale good 'za out our nostrils, we put diamonds in our goblets