Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Joey Trap
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Joey Trap
Songwriter
Lyrics
Akachi in this motherfucker
Yo', haha, yo', yo'
This that shit that make you do that blicky dance
Got me gripping on my pants, they so heavy from these bands, yo
Clap it for me if you really wanna dance
Tell yo' shorty raise her hands
Know we all about them bands, yo
She gon' twerk it while she do a hand stand
Bust my chopper like a fan, we be strumming like a banjo
Clap it for me if you really tryna buck
Got some bitches wanna fuck
So let's keep the toolie tucked, yo
Spanish Harlem **** smoking on some Runtz
With that big double Dutch
Grab some Phillies when it's tough, yo
**** always wanna run a **** fade
Save that beefy shit for lunch
Keep that blicky case he punch, like, ew
I'm already rich but I need billions, ew
No, I'm not a regular civilian, ew
'Member we was in them project buildings, ew
Bust a bottle down with some Brazilians, ew
Then I took yo' shorty down to Neimans
Marcus, I heard you was a narc', boy, you scheming
Fiendin', **** mad the Rollie diamonds gleaning
But stop it, you know I been that topic, we steaming
Hot boy, I think I'm hot, boy, I'm on the block, boy
11:34 and I'm still sipping on some shots, boy, yeah
I ain't mean to say I drop boys
No pop boys, soda pop, boy, it's not, boy
Choppa pop, boy, uh, yo, it's a Glock, boy
In Tokyo, I'm looking for some pussy, it's a thot, boy
Lot of ex's looking for revenge
This world is finna end so I don't need no friends, but...
This that shit that make you do that blicky dance
I'm gripping on my pants, they heavy from these bands, yo
Clap it for me if you really wanna dance
Tell yo' shorty raise her hands
Know we all about them bands, yo
Got a hundred bands stacked on two hundred bands
Shawty on my dick, she wanna fuck 'cause she know I'm the man
I need a percentage, you wanna sell some packs up in my land
And get a bag and then you get to fuck hoes
My young **** grimy savage, know they cut-throat
I take yo' money and then I'm breaking down that lil' hoe
She on the blade, she make that Fendi, yeah, in pesos
I'm on the north, I'm somewhere cooling where you can't go
I need a brick of white girl and that's Alina
When I was in school, I was fucking under bleachers
Take the trip to Japan, go to Akina
I grew my dreads, now I'm feeling like a Rasta
Why that boy acting fake? Yo
He impostor (Akachi in this motherfucker)
Copped a rollie, it cost me 'bout 40 bands
I'll slap a **** even if my hand broke
Still that same **** bouncing out with .44's
Ayy, tell that model in Boost Mobile, yeah, we trap bitch
Went and bought a house and some ice when I got rich
My lil' bitch bang the set with all her kids
From AOB to LA they know what it is
From New York to SD
You know how we rock
YBN, YRS you know how we talk
Flash back to been broke I was on the block
Now I'm nasty, but yo' shorty gon' give me top
Ew, gross, haha, ew
Written by: Joey Trap

