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It's Tricky

de Bktherula

Mars, uh
And I know these niggas mad as fuck (go, go)
Bitch, I'm in the trap with TM, we throw it up (TM)
Pour a four while my nigga throw it up (pour a four)
And, bitch, I'm off the good tens, I might just throw it up (bitch, I'm off that dope for real)

These niggas ain't got no swag for real (niggas ain't got no swag)
And I ain't no lil' baby but bitch, I'm in my bag for real (I'm in my fuckin' bag, bitch)
High as fuck, got jet lag for real (I got jet lag, bitch)
This MAC-11 come with a 32 mag, for real (Mars) (yeah, yeah)

And me and that nigga geeked, we be tweakin' together (oh, yeah, oh, yeah)
And I sure is rockin' hoodies in this damn hot-ass weather
That nigga just like me, I ain't know I had a tether
Ain't no nigga totin' like me, yo' shit light as a feather

I don't wanna work with you, don't care, that's cool (go, go)
Singin' my heart out on this mic right on this fucking stool (yeah, yeah)
No internet, lil' bitch, beef with this fuckin' tool
And I don't gotta show my ass, lil' hoe, to flex on you (hell nah)

Santana, I'ma flex on you (I'ma flex on you)
And I ain't gotta shake my ass, lil' hoe, to flex on you, you (oh, yeah, oh, yeah)
Kaine with the glizzy, I'ma handle you (go, go)
Bitch, these VVS' on my neck wet like a fucking pool (go) (Mars)

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