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trl - all good lyrics

[intro]
(313 mafia)
camp boyz, n_gga
camp sh_t, camp guyz
it’s ups and downs in this sh_t, f_ck it, though
(stupiddog, i ain’t gon’ lie, this b_tch hard)

[verse 1]
ayy, sh_t ain’t all good, ain’t all bad
my b_tch thick with no waist, she got all ass
showin’ what to do with that pape’, what you call class
knew how i want, n_gga, i don’t need no hall pass
you give my name to the hoes and get on dog ass
when i was down on my d_ck, where was y’all at? (where was you?)
a hundred racks on me now, n_gga, all cash (racks)
grab an eight, celebrate with a tall glass
we gettin’ money and the hoes know that b_tch facts
bite her then break her down, sh_t, kit_kat
your b_tch starin’ at my d_ck, you better l!ck that
can’t make love when we f_ck, i don’t kiss rats (never)
we got on the boys’ top, they ain’t get back (nеver)
don’t compare us to them n_ggas that’s a mismatch
shе won’t leave me ‘lone, come and get your b_tch back (come get her)
think she only f_ckin’ you? bro, that’s big cap (cap)
big racks, big bl!cks, we the big camp (camp boyz)
sh_t stop when i bust, she like to kidnap
i love this chop, i’ma name my son fitsacks
i’ve been loadin’ up this month, this my tenth strap
[verse 2]
rob a n_gga for his gun, get your bl!ck back
pop is light as h_ll, poured an eight, now this b_tch black
‘wood full of cookie in my lungs, blowin’ big thrax
k!ll an opp, then spin that b_tch again and get the whip wrapped
i’ll send a reaper to your door if i ever got a problem
he keep braggin’ ’bout some money, but ain’t seen a hundred thousand
i ain’t wanna take it all off, i hit his b_tch and boxed her
i ain’t want her in my call log, i hit the b_tch and blocked her
h_llcats and trackhawks, see the whip the fastest
we could have a one_on_one with hoes, let’s see who b_tch the baddest
let’s see if you a ho or not, who up they bl!ck the fastest?
louis drippin’, bought the gucci bomber, we don’t do the balis
hop out in dior, we on rodeo, let’s go trip in cali
fly to the a, matter fact, let’s go to new york
be done saw a quarter million cash, bae, they hop out the porch (stupiddog, i ain’t gon’ lie, this b_tch hard)
if she ain’t tryna hit her knees, then she can hit the door
pull it out the oven, this b_tch hot like a sauna floor
cut into a n_gga for no reason, i’m just tryna horse

[outro]
b_tch_ass n_gga, yeah
catch an opp out in traffic, i’m just tryna horse, n_gga
camp world, n_gga, camp guyz, n_gga, camp sh_t
y’all n_ggas zombie hoes, always tryna

- trl

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