Young Dolph, Ca$h Out - Back Door Lyrics

The bricks in the plastic
The pounds in the trash bag
The weed ain’t good
We shipping that pack back
I got what you need, come shop at my sto'e
30 clips at the front door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
The bricks in the plastic
The pounds in the trash bag
The weed ain’t good
We shipping that pack back

Burglar bars on my trap nigga
Can’t forget put the cameras
What’s the use to have a show nigga
If they don’t use their hammers
Mister used to talking shit cause
You don’t use your hammer
The arm and hammer
Working my arm with the hammer
Trap straight out the front porch
Bitch you know that I’m with it
Cook game got real strong when I
Straight drop, straight drop
Have em dancing like they P Diddy
Drought time come around
Got to take a to fifty
I stack up the zones, my team playing zone
Boy get off the phone
You been talking too long
I know that they snitching
My trap house is closed
If I cut on this phone
I’m offering this blow

The bricks in the plastic
The pounds in the trash bag
The weed ain’t good
We shipping that pack back
I got what you need, come shop at my sto'e
30 clips at the front door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
The bricks in the plastic
The pounds in the trash bag
The weed ain’t good
We shipping that pack back

Pit bulls running round the yard
Every window got burglar bars
Just a bunch of neighborhood stars pulling
Up in these expensive foreign cars
When you come to my spot
Bro cut the music down and
Come to the back door
Yeah I got what you ask for
But first where your cash bro?
Just got a new batch of
Strong, and bands of reg
I got a lot of that
Look over there in them garbage bags
Pick out what you want and then holler back
Ain’t no bricks in my trap house
No pots and no forks
And I ain’t got no love for a bitch
Cause I came up bumping Too Short
Your old lady across the street on her porch
She love me but she know I’m a dope boy
Me and my niggas keep down the noise so we
Can keep down and out of the way
My phone booming, my trap
Rolling, it’s always open
These choppers loaded
Just in case an old police ask nigga tried
To send a fourth up in here
We already sorted!

The bricks in the plastic
The pounds in the trash bag
The weed ain’t good
We shipping that pack back
I got what you need, come shop at my sto'e
30 clips at the front door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
So come to the back door
The bricks in the plastic
The pounds in the trash bag
The weed ain’t good
We shipping that pack back