Thank God For The Trap Lyrics

[Intro]
What you know about them nights, nigga?
You know I'm sayin'? Ridin' 'round to the neck
Mind steady on a check, you know I mean?
Hey bitch, you better come correct, you know I'm sayin'?
Numbers, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Wrist dancin' like a motherf*ckin' Jabbawockee, I told you that in 2015, right?
Numbers

[Verse 1]
I'm tired of this bullshit (Damn), I activate beast mode (Yeah)
I wake up early (Man), the money I thug for (Money I thug for)
I'm stayin' on my toes, the streets is smirkish (Smirkish)
I stand my ground (Man), and bitch, I'm never nervous
Block hot, still got money to make (Money to make)
7.62s jumpin' outta the K (Ooh, outta the K)
But I maneuver, 'cause nigga, I like money and nice shit (Money and nice shit)
My swag is priceless (Man), my bag is righteous
You mad I got the bitch (Damn), I'm havin' guap-alich (Yeah)
Your bag do not exist (Nah), you jawsin' and rappin' shit (Yeah)
My drawers got horses on it, bitch, stop playin' with me (Playin' with me)
Meet me at LV (Check) and bring some bands with you (Bring some bands with you)
Don't check me, check your temperature
Head so good, she's a keeper (What's happenin'?)
I just tossed the matte on the whip (On the whip)
Nigga, twin turbo, don't trip (Don't trip)
[Chorus]
I get money and I'm never on no f*ck boy shit (Man)
I make songs for the bad bitches and the real niggas
Thank God for the trap, I got rich off my life (Yeah)
I'm real city nigga, let me show you how we rock, yeah
Healthy-ass nigga with a pocket full of check (Check) Real street nigga, slidin' 'round to the neck (Neck)
My life really HAM, bitch, I ain't gotta flex (Flex)
My life really HAM, bitch, I ain't gotta flex (Flex)

[Verse 2]
What I look like complainin'? I got it out the mud
I'm a real street nigga, it's just somethin' in my blood
When I slide through the town, nigga push Grand Nash (Nash)
Ran into my nigga Husalah on a Harley haulin' ass
Bitch, I'm 'bout a token, got these hoes hopin' (Hopin')
p*ssy still sellin', so these hoes still goin' (Goin')
Ice man, Ice man, left wrist frozen (Ooh, numbers)
Chop by the nightstand, locked and it's loaded
These niggas is loafin' (Loafin'), never touched a ticket (Never)
"Larry, what you doin?" Bitch, I'm on a mission (Good job)
These niggas is emotional and barely gettin' chicken (Chicken)
They hatin' (Man), so they get to talkin' on the Twitter (Twitter)
I'm not in competition, I like money and bad bitches (Yeah)
Toolie with extension in the kitchen for one reason (Yeah)
Just in case a nigga try to jack (Try to jack)
If the paint wet, the rims gotta match
[Chorus]
I get money and I'm never on no f*ck boy shit (Man)
I make songs for the bad bitches and the real niggas
Thank God for the trap, I got rich off my life (Yeah)
I'm real city nigga, let me show you how we rock, yeah
Healthy-ass nigga with a pocket full of check (Check)
Real street nigga, slidin' 'round to the neck (Neck)
My life really HAM, bitch, I ain't gotta flex (Flex)
My life really HAM, bitch, I ain't gotta flex (Numbers)

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