Trap Star
Lyrics
Ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy
I'm a T-R-A-P-S-T-AR
Got the city on lock, big shoes on the car
And she likes it (she likes it, nigga)
Ayy, and she likes it, ayy (gyeah)
(Let's get it)
Got the city on smash
The streets on click clock
Eighty grand just to see the Jacob go tick tock (haha)
I'm so materialistic, so well connected
Just ask about it, so well respected (ayy)
Run the streets all day, I don't get no sleep (nope)
Eat at Spondivits four times a week
Bucket of crab legs, Slick had the lobsters (gyeah)
I'm the real deal, these other niggaz imposters
Popped the gold bottles, yeah I took those sips (sips)
50 in the trunk, yeah I took those trips (trips)
Keep the white girl, yeah, forever my lady (gyeah)
Two grand flat, get ya four and a baby, c'mon
I'm a T-R-A-P-S-T-AR
Got the streets on lock, big shoes on the car
And she likes it (she likes it, she likes it)
Ayy, and she likes it (she likes it, she likes it)
I'm a T-R-A-P-S-T-AR
Keep Barney in the Sweets, cop Goose from the bar
And she likes it (she likes it, gyeah, ayy, ayy)
And she likes it (she likes it, she likes it, gyeah)
Slide through the hood to just to check my dough (dough)
Drop-star fresh from head to toe (toe)
From toe to ear the kicks match the cap (gyeah)
Black T-shirt, yeah it match the strap (ayy)
The stones in the watch, yeah they match the chain
New Jordans on his feet, Snowman's the name (haha)
Fresh out the paint shop threw the fo's on it (fo's on it)
Now the Chevy got Lamborghini doors on it (doors on it)
Mix the Grey Goose with the cranberry juices (what)
Nigga, can't you tell I really sold those deuces? (Yup)
The squares are white, the tape is black (what else?)
The wait is over, the real is back (ayy)
I'm a T-R-A-P-S-T-AR
Got the streets on lock, big shoes on the car
And she likes it (she likes it)
Ayy, and she likes it (she likes it, she likes it)
I'm a T-R-A-P-S-T-AR
Keep Barney in the Sweets, cop Goose from the bar
And she likes it (she likes it, gyeah, ayy, ayy)
And she likes it (she likes it, she likes it, gyeah, ayy)
Lil' mama wanna holla at a pimp (pimp)
My money too straight, I don't walk with a limp (naw)
It ain't hard girl, just use ya head (haha)
Slices stacked up, I got colonial bread (yeah)
Now she off the chain, yeah she so erotic
Purple mango, yeah its so exotic (gyeah)
No punch lines (nope) no riddles (uh huh)
I'm talking white squares with the stamps in the middle (haha)
You know me, take the good with the bad
Can't complain the Porsche came with the rag
And the chopper came with extra clips
So when you niggas outta line we can extra flip (ayy)
I'm a T-R-A-P-S-T-AR
Got the streets on lock, big shoes on the car
And she likes it (she likes it)
Ayy, and she likes it (she likes it, she likes it)
I'm a T-R-A-P-S-T-AR
Keep Barney in the Sweets, cop Goose from the bar
And she likes it (she likes it, gyeah)
And she likes it (she likes it, she likes it)
I'm a T-R-A-P-S-T-AR
Got the streets on lock, big shoes on the car
And she likes it (she likes it)
Ayy, and she likes it (she likes it, she likes it)
I'm a T-R-A-P-S-T-AR
Keep Barney in the Sweets, cop Goose from the bar
And she likes it (she likes it, gyeah)
And she likes it (she likes it, she likes it)
Writer(s): Michael Crooms, Jay Jenkins
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
The Meaning of Trap Star
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