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ceo trayle - scandal lyrics

[intro]
ayy, if you don’t know me, now you know me, n+gga, i’m a lil’ rich f+ckin’ b+st+rd

[verse]
ayy, n+gga, i’m a rich f+ckin’ b+st+rd
reach, get you plastered
prayin’ for a brick, see my prayers gettin’ answered
yeah, i’m prayin’ for a l!ck, my stick dirty, it got cancer
play and get you canceled, flew the b+tch from tampa
it was me and spiffy throwin’ money on the dancers
prada papi on my transformer prada sandals
she said she was g+y, crossed her over, i got handles
yeah, instead of you just hustling, rather get rich off of scandals
in a drop+top with a b+tch look like the b+tch from scandal
ayy, with a black ski on my head, i gotta watch for cameras
yeah, i bet he get put inside the trunk, lifе’s a gamble
in the studio with johnny c, no rappin’, we all gamblе
i was on the backstreet, i heard a gunshot, ayy, i seen a body had dropped
ayy, but n0body called cops
get the striker, get the car chopped
my garage look like a car shop
and my bully eat steak and pork chops
and my studio gated, fort knox
it was just me and yak, we used to steal cars and door lock
it was just me and jet, we used to tell everybody come shop
it was just me and jb, we high speed in my bm car
it was just me and cashout, thirty clips, my mask out
’cause we finna take somethin’
ayy, b+tch, i’m rich, i’ll pay for it, my lil’ boy break somethin’
when i feel broke, i get some pounds to trap, but who gon’ take somethin’?
in the studio, sh+t saved my life, i’m tryna make somethin’
ayy, n+gga, i’m just tryna be great for son son
had walked out the studio, came back in, i wasn’t done
plug droppin’ fifty bags, tryna meet me at the london
ayy, if the situation sticky, keep your gun, son
n+gga, i don’t trust nothin’, baby boy got trust funds
ayy, ayy, c4 be on my shoulder tellin’ me to shoot him
ayy, ayy, the ceo say, “calm your nerves, n+gga, you the boss, just use your shooters”
ayy, i can’t trust these n+ggas no more, they some wocky movers
he the one that took it there, i wouldn’t even got us to this, uh
it’s a fifty+fifty split this sh+t if we gon’ do this
if these b+tches comin’, make sure it’s some commas ’round, we been through this, uh
i’ma empty a whole clip, n+gga, if i’m gon’ shoot this up
it’s some real n+ggas with me right now that don’t give a f+ck
so i keep it tucked, ain’t gon’ slow down, speed it up
purple sell me nina plug, to come back, keep re+in’ up
n+gga got that look on his face like they finna eat it up
ayy, these n+ggas better do right, a hundred shots, disagree with us
funeral homes goin’ up, fifty+shot drums loadin’ up
ayy, godd+mn, 4, you goin’ up, uh
n+gga, you must think i ain’t notice that
hit your block and take your temperature, you fraud and i can’t vent with you, uh
so you better keep that stick with you
[outro]
(hold up, spiffy on this motherf+cker)

- ceo trayle lyrics

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