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![Listen to Ready (feat. Young Thug, Young Dolph & Big Bank Black) [Remix] by Trouble, see lyrics, music video & more!](/mkimage/image/thumb/Music49/v4/83/16/e0/8316e08b-c601-1c2a-80be-500e3c2bdfb6/888915208922_cover.jpg/375x375bb.webp "Listen to Ready (feat. Young Thug, Young Dolph & Big Bank Black) [Remix] by Trouble, see lyrics, music video & more!")
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Trouble
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Yusuf Islam
Songwriter
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Duck tape
Big Bank, yeah
[Verse 2]
Been had it, ain't braggin'
We gettin' money like Meech now
I'm havin' more power than politics
Fifty killers in each town
Can't even remember my first bitch
Got turnt out by my first lick
Man, I got all my same partners
I love my ****, I never cross 'em
[Verse 3]
Whoever shot at Bank should have did that
I'ma send some shots where your kids at
Big Bank came out the womb with it
Sweep these pussies, got my broom ready
Just bought a thirty for my forty hundred round
For my choppers, tell a pussy **** gon' get ready
Strapped up right now, forty ion the booth with me
I ain't even trust my engineer
Might say voila, make a **** disappear
My granny always told, can't live by fear
If a **** want smoke, this shit right here
If you really want smoke, this shit right here
Keep throwin' the rocks and hidin' your hand
****, get your wrist chopped
Keep hidin', pussy ****, get your bitch popped
Against all odds, Big Bank like you 2Pac
Slime shit, triple cross is how the crew rock
[Verse 4]
I get involved so deeply
I can't even get one my feet out
Boy, that shit thicker than gator mud
She go to sleep and I creep out
I got them birds and them beaks out
Suck on my dog with his leash out
Sixty K then get my teeth out
I got some kush, pull the leaf out
Couple bad bitches, we ready for 'em
My Rolex gold, I'm a leprechaun
That shit ain't right, that bitch steppin' on
Got on ice, no pneumonia
Came up on the corner
I came up, I'm so honored
Another level
70k for the show, check the schedule
Hear 'em fucked up lil' bitch, what it cost?
Least gotta get a hunnid P's
A hunnid P's, I gotta get 'em
I'm in the kitchen whippin' up the babies
Now my **** and my bitches probably with 'em
Nautical boat, ridin' with these choppers, bitch
Balenciaga bitch
I'm allergic to seafood
These little shrimp need to stop it, bitch
[Verse 5]
Yeah, ****, Aquafina
And my boy got lots of ninas
All my Rollies iced out, penguins
Make these bitches suck up all the semans
We on go, ****, stop it
Swear I'ma hit like Stojaković
My **** put one in your dome with me
We do it without usin' phones either
My bitch so wet like she came off a boat
And these **** know I do gene-ometry
Call my bumble, babies squeeze me like sandwiches
Put the whole dick up in her, she handle it
I'ma take this bitch as far as it go
Fuck around and you get found with the blow
Showed a bitch a million K like I know
And if she try to take it she gotta go
[Verse 6]
Can't get involved too deeply
Can't set myself up for letdowns
Get on them bars, get sleepy
Grab a lil' bitch and go lay her down
Can't even remember my weekend
Barely can get up the next day
All I know that I stay gettin' paid
Chain on the floor by my Michael J
Couple lil' bitches was ready
Chopper on side of me ready
One in the head, that bitch ready
Did you not think I was ready?
I just Ray this shit ready
Gotta go and push it on out to the block
Gotta go and push it on out to the street
Whatever, do it heavy, young **** be ready
[Verse 7]
We be like, bitch, I got a hunnid P's
A hunnid P's, I gotta get 'em
Give a fuck what my **** done did
'Cause wrong or right **** ridin' with 'em
Twenty four seven, ridin' with this chopper, bitch
Ridin' with this chopper, yeah
We can afford some problem, yeah
I can afford some problem (Yeah)
Be the one, I'll lay you down
Bad bitches, I just lay 'em down
New emotions, I can't play around
Pop was gone, I made my way around
Through the city, money got to get it
Francis was out shootin' dice with me
My bitch, she wanted me home with her
Textin' her, talkin' on phones with her
I fuck with you but the way a **** fuck with you
Make it seem like I don't fuck with you
I don't hit your phone all the time
You say it make you feel like you ain't on my mind
How the fuck is you ain't on my mind?
When I just went helped you go and flip a dime
Why the fuck is these bitches ungrateful?
Must be doin' somethin' under the table
[Verse 8]
All of my ****, they ready (Yeah)
Y'all some pussies, you scary
All on the internet tellin'
Tryna have a real **** jailin'
The shit round my neck so heavy
I'ma keep drippin' sauce, spaghetti
Oh, that why they mad, huh
Don't like how I say it, huh
Pockets full of cash, huh (Yeah)
Hit your bitch from the back, huh
Skeeted on her face, yeah
I know that you that you hate that
I'm sorry, I can't take it back
Real ****, they relate to that
Ay, any **** that record when it's time for gangster shit
He the police
And I fucked your boss man's baby mama
Same hotel for four weeks
Never send a lil' boy to take care of grown man business
If I was you, I'd be mad at me too
So I ain't trippin'
Ridin' solo in a drop top through the city
It's Dolph
Written by: Leodius Forte, Mariel Semonte Orr, Trouble
