Trip on It (feat. DaBoii, $tupid Young & Fenix Flexin)

(Cal-A, keep it lit)

Ask Bape, I got every cleat up in the store (Cleat check)

ALLBLACK got some real pimpin' goin' on

Hit Barneys, spend a D, press Scott on Louis (Thank you)

Thought I was 1017 in all this Gucci (Gucci)

Jewish money like I'm Berkley, bustdown jew'y

I'm the cleat man and money man, bitch, salute me

Field, Marshall, or the blade, all I served is coochie

Austin Powers groovy, molly in me, it's a movie

I ain't lovin', cuffin', nothin', that's for everybody

I'm like Tre Factor, my knockoff pockets is sloppy (I need it all)

Put your hands on your knees, bitch, give me a boost (Break your back)

I need a bitch who don't mind rubbers on her tooth

Bust an outcall with a white colored jawn at Ruths

Glock in the coupe, I'm in the field turned up like Juice

Everybody in your clique gon' die, you touch me (Die)

Golden State, I'm number one like Meech or Muggsy

(Cal-A made that beat, I had to trip on it)

Tell ****, hit my line when that bag land

He called me, say he gotta do the bag dance

It do somethin' to my soul when that bag land

Call me Jimmy, I'm the 22nd bag man

And I put your ass to sleep, I'm the Sandman

I can't see me spending money on no lap dance

Shout out to my cousin, feel like, man, I made 'em tap dance

Black **** breakin' snow, save the last dance

Break jaws, lost some pockets on a clumsy ****

Give me eighty for a line, hundred to lummy ****

Runnin' plays in my cleats like Polo tee

Only want her if she focusing on her feet

**** vegan to the streets, never had beef

Only **** that got stripes can stand by me

Tinted windows or I'm riding in a see-through

You ain't gotta keep staring, you can speak, boo

(Cal-A, keep it lit)

And I just want the finer things in life, I feel like Polo G

You **** worry about breakin' down the door and I done stole the key

Got a bitch to cool me down up in the booth 'cause I might overheat

I can't believe it took me all these views for you to notice me

I can't believe the motherfuckin' devil got a hold of me

The beef he running from, your favorite rapper, I control the beef

Crazy how they hate up in the city but it's love overseas

Oh, why he never take his glasses off? They like, "That boy a geek"

Got the word that Cal-A made this bitch, so now I'm trippin' on it

Heard all your music through your label and they sittin' on it

Why the fuck is **** muggin' like bring my gun?

Bitch, I ain't LL Cool J, I don't need no love

And broadie pull up from the three, that boy stay out the vision

I heard you was the man around this bitch, I'ma still try to, ****

Brag about how you would never lack, well bitch, you dyin' with it

And everybody strapped, but not too many out slidin' with 'em, bitch

$tupid Young, ay

**** sleepin' on me, bet this 40 wake him up

Thirty rounds in the clip for **** who thinkin' they tough

I can see y'all throwin' shade, these Cartier buffs

You flexin' bands on the 'Gram, but that ain't enough

Fuckin' with his BM, every day she call me bae

Fucked her from the AM to the PM in this Bape

Young Asian **** grinding till I'm in the Wraith

And Afficials be the label, meaning I can't fuck with fakes

Tell a bitch **** hold up like my name was Slim 4

This a real **** party, you can't get this info

Trap with my killers and them **** got them pistols

All type of magazines, you can get the issue

(Cal-A, keep it lit)

You ain't gotta keep staring, you can speak, bitch

We them **** ridin' 'round this town tryna sweep shit

Lollipop ass **** on some sweet shit

I got this big chop, I ain't playin' any defense

**** ain't gangster, they just rap good (Bitch)

Smokin' Runtz by the eighth in a Backwood (Backwood)

I just talked down some chile, yeah, I'm that good (Ay)

These **** do it for the 'Gram, they just act hood

Ay, I been feeling like the chosen one

Bitch, your **** broke, girl, you chose a bum

Put my buffs on a bitch, then I beat it up

It's like everywhere I go, a **** need a cut

If you don't greet me with some money, I'ma leave it up

To you, baby

If we beefin', ain't no tweetin', I'ma heat it up

****, you know I move crazy

(Cal-A made that beat, I had to trip on it)

I'm with 22nd Ways, we the Play Runners

I just pull out thirty thousand, that's some play money

Ay, **** sprintin', run it up

If I tell you come up out it, better give it up

**** got one life, I'm finna live it up

Mixing Henny with Patrón, now I'm lit as fuck

****, haha, bitch