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CEO Trayle

Hell Date

 

Hell Date

(album: Happy Halloween 3 - 2020)


(48Hz)
Prezzley P.'ll get you popped, nigga (Get your ass popped, boy)

It's too many fakes 'round, ayy
Nigga, we don't play, this ain't the playground
Ayy, two hundred shots wrapped in duct tape, what can you say now?
I stay far away from Henry County, that's like the jake town
Ayy, I swear to God I'm gone on these bitches, I can't wait 'round
My whole objective was to eat, I'm filling up my plate now
I got thirty bucks inside these Amiri jeans and I just skate 'round
Ayy, ayy, ayy, and if your bitch an opp, might gun your date down

Glock to your face, open the safe, nigga, lay down
Fifty bricks to Birmingham, Alabama off the Greyhound
I took them sticks straight up to Chiraq and then I stayed 'round
Uh, I'm ready for another break-in, took my gate down
Take a look at that boy face, he know I might jump his gate
Glock-19, might catch a case
These some Fendi sweatpants on my waist
I'm just gon' call Prezzley, that's my ace
Ayy, I don't fuck no more, but I fucked Tay
And I can't calm her down, that bitch too crazy
She still got my BMI check, pay me
They say that C4 be talking crazy
2013, Grady baby
I ain't seen Stunna in a long time, came a long way from blue Mercedes
I took his bitch, swallowed my babies
I'm rich, her boyfriend hook up cable
Too many thick horses in my stable
I'm Cain and Big 4 just like Abel
You see me flexing, it make you angry
Huh, how can you blame me?
Regular to you, but to Camp Creek, I'm just like Jay-Z
And it don't matter, whatever club I'm in, this bitch finna get rainy
You couldn't even see my brothers on that tape, that footage grainy
Ayy, he think C4 a pussy, he might try to stain me
Pour a four of Wock' and smoke a pound of these exotic strainsies
And I had a bitch, but all my bitches thought they was gon' change me
Nigga, you know I trap them bags from Washington Road all the way to Chamblee

It's too many fakes 'round, ayy
Nigga, we don't play, this ain't the playground
Ayy, two hundred shots wrapped in duct tape, what can you say now?
I stay far away from Henry County, that's like the jake town
Ayy, I swear to God I'm gone on these bitches, I can't wait 'round
My whole objective was to eat, I'm filling up my plate now
I got thirty bucks inside these Amiri jeans and I just skate 'round
Ayy, ayy, ayy, and if your bitch an opp, might gun your date down

You gotta go crazy, you gotta, you know? You know?
Yeah, for sure, you just, you know, you just, you know?
You get near, you gotta go crazy, you gotta, you know?
You know, it don't be no, no handout, niggas don't be try to do no favors
Niggas be hating, niggas don't want nobody to go harder than them or go, or go, you know? Get bigger than them
So you gon' learn this shit, these niggas be crazy as hell, you just gotta go crazy yourself, though
Like don't depend on them, don't ask no nigga for, you know what I'm sayin'?
Like if that shit happen, let that shit happen, though
But these niggas getting, that shit, this shit getting, getting different
Like these niggas Jackson, Peaches, and everything like that
You know? It's getting different
This shit getting, this shit, this shit a fool

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?