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fat trel - burn lyrics

[intro: fat trel]
it was right, i was wrong
yeah

[verse 1: fat trel]
another n-gga die as my cell phone rings
same time b-tches kiss the pinky ring
i’m a don, my mother say she knew that all along
back when i was never home, when i was i was strong
try and sell the white like it’s right, i was wrong
but the money wasn’t light, it was ripe, it was long
can’t be livin’ basic all the business people take it
more investigations, all the money we be makin’
double m the g right now i feel like we the greatest
n0body hatin’, i promise that’s not a statement
they in the building with k!llers they never say sh-t
and all my n-ggas the realest cause we don’t take sh-t
rose just called me like “got a body for you for forty”
i told him if he that important i k!ll him for sure
stash bodies, i pay the storage, i pay the mortgage
[?], they told me my record was gorgeous
wait and listen, then i really start to pay attention
miami in the [?], but the ferrari missin’
rare forges on these, sorry spotted tracy in it
i’m in the b7, she try to rape me in it
i start caressin’ her friend and she told me “wait a minute”
i’m breakin’ records, in sixty seconds we finna s-x
then f-ck the rest of this beat, cause i’m as finished flex
no regrets, just rollin’, me and my weapon

[hook: fat trel (x2)]
burn this motherf-cker down (burn this motherf-cker down)
burn this motherf-cker down (down)
we be them n-ggas them n-ggas don’t ever come around
and when they pull up my chopper like “turn the f-ck around”
before i —

[verse 2: rick ross]
we checkin’ the luggage and carry-on all the money
feedin’ all of my n-ggas, still get new coupes every summer
interested in jets and unforgettable s-x
[?] went and bought a corvette
f-ck the feds, get it tatted on my neck and leg
ballin’ like i’m derrick rose on my second legs
that fourteen lookin’ like my momma deviled eggs
you a b-tch, in jail them n-ggas even had you makin’ beds
for a fiend in my blood i write a hundred songs
never frontin’ now my new sh-t got a hundred rooms
double m, we them dudes not to run into
sl-tty boyz, p-ssy boys what you wanna do? huh?!

[hook]

[verse 3: rick ross]
my four-four leave a f-ck n-gga bedridden
bed sores and his old ho’s head spinnin’
think it’s a game, n-ggas layin’ in the rain
for some sh-t on twitter, n-gga what the f-ck you sayin’?
[?] kept a stick in his dad’s [?]
then went to war with the whole task force
a quarter key is these n-gga’s goals
caught a case and his whole d-mn [?]

[verse 4: fat trel]
f-ck is wrong with these n-ggas souls?
ain’t takin’ lip from a b-tch unless her p-ssy is gold
and me and bro blow better ‘dro got different [?]
i different business and benz, different area codes
wonder why them taliban n-ggas never fold
i chop ’em like a chinaman when i drop a roll
my teacher drivin’ the camry so i was never wrong
she shoulda listened to me, i was right all along

[hook]

burn this motherf-cker down
burn this motherf-cker down
we be them n-ggas them n-ggas don’t ever come around
and when they pull up my chopper like “turn the f-ck around”

- fat trel lyrics

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