Kid Breeze - T's and B's Lyrics

Off the rip i'm a known trapper
No rapper spitting as organic
Heat packer street savvy and i'm a whore bandit
Lawn mower, gotta know it the way i'm bagging grass
Making beats, wit Trippy tell you if ya raps was ass
Dats a fact, I ain't fartin but i'ma pass the gas
We was shorties on our bikes riding pass the glass
Runnin off when we ringin bells like the pastors mass
Got the crown now don't give a fuck about who had it last
Remy Martin, in a glass a nigga sippin' on it
Shorty callin, she wanna talk and I ain't trippin' on it
Den she text me, u know I love you but I gotta focus
Quitting smoking cuz what I be blowin be too potent
Yop poppa, it had me wildin drop it in the Blanco
Calling bitches different names another thing I had to stop tho
Coppin rocks tho, over east it was a sunny day
My nigga callin seein wasup wit another money play
Quick 3k on the chest i'm gleaming i'm Willie Beamen
I had to hit em twice when he started tweakin
I had to cross him over when he started reachin
I knew a nigga that was a menace fore' he started preaching
I knew some niggas that was some ballers fore' they started leachin
Niggas be killas they homie die and they call for peace
Smokin blacks, a nasty habit I picked up on
Rappers don't want beef and if they do they know it's up for em
1st person, ain't no general shit in nun I'm sayin
Any bitch I had can merch them streets that I was playin
Choppa sprayin, lettin lose when we at the dice game
Niggas know dat I dont be playin not even slight games
Pack pumper all through my 20s but made a slight change
Boy ain't have no clout with them peoples he usin my name
Used to be a rugrat I'm all growed up
So be ready to cash them checks your mouth wrote up nigga

Off the rip i'm a known trapper
No rapper spitting as organic
Heat packer street savvy and i'm a whore bandit
Lawn mower, gotta know it the way i'm bagging grass
Making beats, wit Trippy tell you if ya raps was ass
Dats a fact, I ain't fartin but i'ma pass the gas
We was shorties on our bikes riding pass the glass
Runnin off when we ringin bells like the pastors mass
Got the crown now don't give a fuck about who had it last
Remy Martin, in a glass a nigga sippin' on it
Shorty callin, she wanna talk and I ain't trippin' on it
Den she text me, u know I love you but I gotta focus
Quitting smoking cuz what I be blowin be too potent
Yop poppa, it had me wildin drop it in the Blanco
Calling bitches different names another thing I had to stop tho
Coppin rocks tho, over east it was a sunny day
My nigga callin seein wasup wit another money play
Quick 3k on the chest i'm gleaming i'm Willie Beamen
I had to hit em twice when he started tweakin
I had to cross him over when he started reachin
I knew a nigga that was a menace fore' he started preaching
I knew some niggas that was some ballers fore' they started leachin
Niggas be killas they homie die and they call for peace
Smokin blacks, a nasty habit I picked up on
Rappers don't want beef and if they do they know it's up for em
1st person, ain't no general shit in nun I'm sayin
Any bitch I had can merch them streets that I was playin
Choppa sprayin, lettin lose when we at the dice game
Niggas know dat I dont be playin not even slight games
Pack pumper all through my 20s but made a slight change
Boy ain't have no clout with them peoples he usin my name
Used to be a rugrat I'm all growed up
So be ready to cash them checks your mouth wrote up nigga