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corella (uk) - trappin' lyrics
got too many f-cking bandos
your mans my fan, he wants the am
bring the sheets and half a z
his girl won’t beat she’s on her reds
your mans a cheat, he’s preeing head
he think’s he’s gang, his line is dead
no p’s about the rebore crepes
and he’s a neek the yout is wet
clocked a yard, shots estate
house was lit, moving bait
preed the drum, needs a cake
sneaking in, needs the wage
he’s trappin amo like its buge
his line is popping life is good
from the city to the hood
from the city to the hood
his life is peak don’t understand
ain’t eating meat a tuna man,
low on wheat just boxed the jam
don’t know the streets, you’re moving spam
you’re low on p’s, ain’t seen a grand
your mum’s a thot, she’s making bands
gets the ami from the dam, she needs two dark and half a gram
whip the pasta
toss the salad
get the mutton feed the mandem
with the girldem, shoobs ah happen
run the tune
back the magnum
whip the pasta
toss the salad
get the mutton feed the mandem
with the girldem, shoobs ah happen
run the tune
back the magnum
f-ck the snakes that speak to trident
stash the heat i’m talking iron
your man won’t beat don’t make it happen
i’ll call sp he’s due to wrap him
got the north face and the rollie
you’re taking notes i keep it stoney
got the amo for your homeys
who’s talking greezy like they know me?
f-cking clocked a couple paigons
ain’t paying tax, we keep evading
got the scales, doing the weighing
whip the food, keep it baking
a couple gs, a f-cking ounce
don’t like the scene i’m due to bounce
in the end no facing droughts
supply the food, then moving out
this girls a beg, i’m due to slice her
she’s talking smack like i won’t find her
she’s hype online, the girls a hider
p-ss the chip bruv and the lighter
f-ck my ex i’m zoning out
he lost his girl the coldest out
calls my phone i’m not about
i’m in the 7 riding out
i got the dank, come blow the trees
don’t smoke the cheese, i smoke amnese
this girls a cat, try copy me
not on my wave, you clocking b
this girls a sket stop moving weak
i’ve got the fire and the heat
tell charlie sloth to run the beat
my flow is sick my bars and fleek
keep it real or keep it moving
talking crud my gs will boot him
talking me, might have to spook him
drop that loot off left in luton
thinks he’s bad he’s trapping ses
don’t like that food, theres no finesse
flexing stressed on house arrest
could help him out and buy the rest
playing games ill shut you down
i’m about this life i hold it down
yeah i’m calm, i’ve been around
all is sweet and all is sound
a couple skengs setting trends
whip the bimmer and the benz
i’m still around i’m known in ends
some man can’t trap wamp 2 dem
you all just hate a f-cking lightie
i see the way you all despise me
f-cking haters, f-ck the pikeys
feature squeeze you’ll probably like me
got the 3 for 25
she’s wearing mac thats her disguise
i smoke the am the chinese eyes
slim ting thick i got the thighs
you know i’m there, the ps are calm
i know to call for firearms
with the bali and the gloves
will clap the heat, no time to scuff
with the bali and the gloves
will clap the heat, no time to scuff
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