maxo kream - cell boomin lyrics
[verse 1: maxo kream]
stains hit my phone cus i’m trapping like a b-tch
facetimin’ with the plug but my phone on 3%
don’t be playin’ on my line tell me what you tryna get
hate when n-ggas want work but they ask to send a pic
i got pounds, i got zips but i could never serve a nick
i got rounds, i got clips and i could never shoot and miss
top shoota dun dodda n-gga real ting diss
on instagram thottin’ hoes sendin’ naked pics
call your b-tch make a fl!ck hit again and call it quits
metro f-ck a sprint no location on my sh-t
servin’ n-ggas fake bricks remixed with packs, sell it cheap
watch me quarterback plays like a 28 sweep
all day juggin’ on my trap phone
gettin’ on my my nerves switch to airplane mode
selling h-lla drugs to a patient
young n-gga trappin’ out the vacant
[hook]
stupid little b-tch wanna front on five grams
you a petty little ho
three pounds of the gas going for the five bands
get the plug on the phone
if it ain’t about the hunnids n-gga what the f-ck you want
i might ship it out to cali while you smokin’ home grown
phone goin’ off trappin’ like a m-th-f-cker
karo a whole pint serve it to a dumb sucka
[verse 2: father]
stop playin’ on my phone
aye you at the crib, b-tch i’m always f-cking home
best had text ‘before you come, n-gga you don’t know me
flip phone nokia to keep it lowkey
yup, got a cholo i only hit on motarola
keep good c0ke, i don’t mean coca cola
speak a little spanish, yea mamacita hola
yeah i hit it raw, hope i don’t catch ebola
d-mn that was ignorant, going to blame it on my pigment
n-ggas think they see me but they only see a figment
habitual b-tch-getter, pick of the litter, n-gga
how the h-ll you figure you better?
you the type of n-gga take a b-tch leave the cheddar
i’m the type of n-gga get the money get her wetter
need more provolone, n-gga need feta
need to leave that ho alone, n-gga do better
[hook]
stupid little b-tch wanna front on five grams
you a petty little ho
three pounds of the gas going for the five bands
get the plug on the phone
if it ain’t about the hunnids n-gga what the f-ck you want
i might ship it out to cali while you smokin’ home grown
phone goin’ off trappin’ like a m-th-f-cker
karo a whole pint serve it to a dumb sucka
[verse 3: maxo kream]
stupid b-tch hit my phone askin’ can i front a sack
told that petty little ho she could never call me back
only time i text a ho when i’m feenin for some cat
but i could never let the p-ssy come between me and the trap
on vyvanse, on molly i could never take a nap
open 24/7 come and get it asap
even sell flatscreens got a couple apple macs
got so many guns that i even sell straps
middle fingers to the laws put it all on snapchat
only use this phone to trap so i don’t got a lotta apps
got 3 different numbers tryna dodge a wire tap
get the weed from amigo, get the xansfrom the j-ps
all day trappin’ like a fool
my little brother movin’ packs after school
sellin’ h-lla drugs to a junkie
young n-gga juggin’ cross the country
[hook]
stupid little b-tch wanna front on five grams
you a petty little ho
three pounds of the gas going for the five bands
get the plug on the phone
if it ain’t about the hunnids n-gga what the f-ck you want
i might ship it out to cali while you smokin’ home grown
phone goin’ off trappin’ like a m-th-f-cker
karo a whole pint serve it to a dumb sucka
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