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blunt trobae – creep lyrics

[intro]
trae $t–zy on the beat!

[hook: trae $t–zy]
25k on the dash, b-tch done took it all and put it in her bag
we out tryna put our whole city on the map
make that cash but these witches on the tab!
(sneaky b-tches they just!)
creep (x4)
(sneaky b-tches they just!)
creep (x4)
[verse 1: en!gma]
i swear i’m done, i ain’t f-ckin’ with no freaks (freaks)
you know, the type to make you c-m and make you change your sheets (sheets)
she’ll let you in on victoria’s little secret
the type you’d like f-ck but never ever wanna be with (ha!)
i done seen her around the scenery, booty so wild you’d swear that sh-t was really make believe
she didn’t really talk, all she did was check the jewellery
her knight in shining armour, now she checking if the jewel’s is real (ha!)
at some point i woulda loved to be her man, but she stay after the cheese like she a packers fan
when i played, she was never in the stands
but she’s always in the bank, when i’m cashing in my rands
(yup, yup she a…)

[verse 2: triice]
p-pockets are like mine arenas, got gold diggers tryna steal my diamond ring (d-mn b-tch!)
that’s my girlfriend’s ring, saved my last penny for a perfect wedding ling (but then… bam!)
she was a hoe instead, that hurt me than most street kids fighting for bread, so i took her to bed – we made a h-lluva mess
screwed her, amber, pam, sam and all of her friends
she was mad at me, so i went to sleep
she crept out on me, and stole 20 gees
i hate loose panties, ’cause they loose like me
i love hoes, but only when santa says it

[verse 3: trae $t–zy]
whoo! sheesh!
sneaky witches, they just keep on creepin’
everytime a n-gg- sleepin’, they want carats like a vegan
they blowing up my texts, asking s-x just so they can take my stacks and buy their sh-t, making sure that they’re eatin’ (d-mn)
pulled up, bustin’ out the bando (yee)
by 28 i’mma whip a lambo (skrr)
whip it so hard, like it’s django (yeah)
i be dancing with my clique, call it tango (ha!)
you ain’t gotta act holy if you don’t wanna
’cause i see you smoking everytime there’s marijuana
she a gold digger, i ain’t talking marikana
obsessed being americana, sicker than a baragwanath (lord)
i think it’s funny how you’re hatin’
all my concerts you keep payin’, just to hate on how i made it, what’chu sayin’? (what’chu mean?)
i ain’t playin’! (boy i’m street)
i’mma call up all my goons, that’s what i’m saying!

- blunt trobae lyrics

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