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ceo trayle & dubba-aa - rules lyrics

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[intro: ceo trayle]
(dubba+aa flex)
that motherf+ckin’ saxophone beat (winning lottery numbers coming up)
talking, it’s like a different language, but i always understand that sh+t
yeah
for sure
(this is the sound)

[chorus: ceo trayle]
ayy, uh, uh, xanax popper, uh, percocet popper, uh
she call me big poppa, uh, kicked her off the roster
ayy, ayy, me and dubba+aa like master p and silkk shocker
ayy, ayy, bad b+tch popper, tell her load this chopper
ayy, ayy, actin’+ass n+gga, uh, you should win an oscar
give him the “is he dead?” kick, p+ssy n+gga playin’ possum
on bakman i top shot you, that red beam’ll dot you
n+gga said he made backdoor, but i was gon’ be this sh+t with out you

[verse: ceo trayle]
i really miss my main b+tch, but i’m gon’ f+ck this b+tch without her
ayy, in my neighborhood like roger, turn that boy into spaghetti pasta
all these n+ggas ’round me with blitz and gl!cks, i’m big, i don’t know who shot you
ayy, southside, sent me to the doctor, one shot took the soul up out you
n+gga, i’m a south side repper, a exit one stepper
and double palm beach legend, that lil’ n+gga was just an extra
i put a dub on his head, bet them n+ggas come catch it
i felt like i hit the lottery when i seen him on that stretcher (lottery numbers coming up)
ayy, i bet these n+ggas ain’t f+cking with me, put your money up, i’ll bet you
ayy, ayy, i’m pullin’ b+tches, i gotta catch ’em all like ash ketchum
ayy, she think i’m an ass kisser, baby, i’m a bag+getter
nothin’ like your last n+gga, this might be your last n+gga
ayy, ayy, baby, put it in your mouth like it’s a popsicle
they try to keep me in the studio ’cause i might pop n+ggas
i was the man inside my house, n+gga, i ain’t have no pops with us
we got cereal, no milk, i mean, dry pops, n+gga
we had pb and no jelly, but now i got all the bread
and we aim for only head, told the b+tch, “want only head”
ayy, “n+ggas ain’t f+cking with me and my brother,” that’s what my other brother said
i call you brother, that mean i love you, f+ck with you, take off his head
[chorus: ceo trayle]
ayy, uh, uh, xanax popper, uh, percocet popper, uh
she call me big poppa, uh, kicked her off the roster
ayy, ayy, me and dubba+aa like master p and silkk shocker
ayy, ayy, bad b+tch popper, tell her load this chopper
ayy, ayy, actin’+ass n+gga, uh, you should win an oscar
give him the “is he dead?” kick, p+ssy n+gga playin’ possum
on bakman i top shot you, that red beam’ll dot you
n+gga said he made backdoor, but i was gon’ be this sh+t with out you

[outro]
(this is the sound)



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