Grah Tah Tah – Tory Lanez (feat. Kodak Black)

[Tory Lanez:]
Yeah
Lil’ itty-bitty bitch, haha
Yeah, nigga
And suck my dick, nigga, ayy (FOREVEROLLING)

I know y’all hoes want me in jail but I’ma stunt ’cause I’m a baller
I damn near gave my heart to that bitch, still don’t make time to call her
I stopped beefin’ with the opps, grah-tah, grah-tah-tah
I’m all off in lil’ mama ear tryna make her give me that box, ha
Thought she was committed but she was fuckin’ off of my partners
She reached back put them paws all on my balls and I ain’t gon’ stop her
Ho, I know when you top it off you finna swallow-allow-allow
I come outside lookin’ better than a bad bitch, a bad bitch probably can’t even holler
Ayy, I hahaha-hide your bitch to the bank
Nah, bitch, I done hahaha-hide your bitch to the bank
I’m the type to take a nigga whole bitch and I don’t give a fuck what he say
I’m the type to disrespect a nigga whole set, give a fuck what he bang
I know that y’all bitches want me in jail but I’m gon’ keep stuntin’
All this pavé in my diamonds sick, call me 3 Shyne
Back in school, them teachers called me fool, said I wouldn’t be nothin’
I know that it hurt they soul whenever they see me stuntin’
Came back to my high school in Lambos and Jag’s (Jag’s)
Bitch, you was in class, I was out there chasin’ bags
She done broke my heart but she can’t do that shit again (Uh-uh)
Bitch, I’m in my trap, boomin’ like 2010

I still feel like I’m OJ da Juiceman, I make the trap ayy
This here for my trappers sellin’ work from ’round the way
You don’t like my price? Well, look I don’t know what to say, uh
Trap house boomin’ twenty-five, ayy, bitch, you know I feel like
OJ da Juiceman, I make the trap ayy
This here for my trappers sellin’ work from ’round the way
You don’t like my price? Well, look I don’t know what to say, uh
Trap house boomin’ twenty-five, ayy, bitch, you know I feel like

[Kodak Black:]
Yeah, bitch, I feel like Yak, in this splat with a big old MAC, yeah
And the attire all back, yeah, I’m lil’ Sniper, that’s facts, yeah
Until they let me off papers, I’ma just pay to get you wacked
It ain’t nothing to get you Peter Row’d, got Petho flippin’ sacks
I could always go back to the trap I ever get tired of the rap
They know I hit that slab and I cook vitamins in the crack, yeah
And I’m poppin’ fraud, look like Mariah in the lap
Look like Dexter with this desktop how I just got me a jag, uh
I was on the mollies on a private jet just playin’, uh
Baking soda, Pyrex, hit the projects when I land, uh
I like Glocks, FNs, yah
I like pots and pans, yah
The dope gon’ come back ten, uh, baby girl, hold my hand, uh
I know you niggas feelin’ like you safe with me in prison, ain’t it
But three bodies dropped behind the fence and still be killin’, ain’t it
Yeah, six bodies dropped and I caught me one on my own mission, ain’t it
Yeah, I shot a few opps, I popped a few tops, but I ain’t finished, ain’t it
Pew, bam, bam bam, bam, bam bam bam, bam, uh
Dope sold, money fold, I’m on a scroll, ain’t doing no deals, uh
Glock cock back, no safety
I caught lots of cases (Uh)
Pullin’ up, drop top Wraith’s

[Tory Lanez:]
I still feel like I’m OJ da Juiceman, I make the trap ayy
This here for my trappers sellin’ work from ’round the way
You don’t like my price? Well, look I don’t know what to say, uh
Trap house boomin’ twenty-five, ayy, bitch, you know I feel like
OJ da Juiceman, I make the trap ayy
This here for my trappers sellin’ work from ’round the way
You don’t like my price? Well, look I don’t know what to say, uh
Trap house boomin’ twenty-five, ayy, bitch, you know I feel like
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