trippie redd - ghost* lyrics
lyrics from snippets
[intro: trippie redd]
somebody call peta (yeah)
somebody call- (yeah)
somebody call peta (yeah)
gang
b-tch n-ggas, abuse the b-tch n-ggas
[chorus: trippie redd]
these n-ggas hoes, hoes
neck and wrist froze, on bro (gang)
i ain’t playin’ wit’ em no (yeah, yeah), no
pour a motherf-ckin’ four, four
pour a motherf-ckin’ four, four
lamborghini slam my doors (woo), doors
i just pulled up in a ghost, ghost
f-ck that b-tch then adios, need my b-tches head to toes
[verse 1: trippie redd]
huh, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
hold the f-ck up, hold the f-ck up
keep it crushed up, ice, keep it crushed up
in my double cup, yeah, double cup, yeah
if you think you gang, p-ssy, double up, yeah
ho’s, ho’s, n-ggas ho’s, yeah
you a friend, or a foe, let me know, know
slam my door, swing my door, heard them feds swinged your door
n-gga, them feds ain’t swinging my door, yeah fasho’
count my dough, yeah, she wanna smoke my dope, yeah
this semi-auto, bah, ‘mi auto, bah
semi-auto, bah, pop you like a bottle, bah
this semi-auto, bah, ‘mi auto, bah
semi-auto, bah, pop you like a bottle, bah
[chorus: trippie redd]
these n-ggas hoes, hoes
neck and wrist froze, on bro (gang)
i ain’t playin’ wit’ em no (yeah, yeah), no
pour a motherf-ckin’ four, four
pour a motherf-ckin’ four, four
lamborghini slam my doors (woo), doors
i just pulled up in a ghost, ghost
f-ck that b-tch then adios, need my b-tches head to toes
[verse 2: chris king]
[?] choppas, runnin’ up dough
beatin’ the box, n-gga the [?]
[?], straight off the boat
i step on the block, i was cutting pure dope
i’m still pickin’ locks, doin’ it wrong
we kickin’ in doors, like is anyone home?
knock the dreadlocks off of his the top of his dome
i grip the chrome, n-gga, you lose google chrome
turn me up a notch, put me in my zone
put him in the plot, like the scene is yours
and this freakazoid, has a diamond sword
and his choppa loud, as an aventador
i’m with the bullsh-t [?] i’m at the door
[?] the full clips, get the opposition headed off
bad b-tches, and they always wanna tag along
couple bands on the wrist and i ain’t brag at all
pull a [?], then i make the bodybag tall
my n-ggas slide him and he dead, [?] d-mn [?]
i get too high and i ain’t [?] through the d-mn floor
we slang a .9, we ain’t f-ckin’ with the d-mn law
[chorus: trippie redd]
these n-ggas hoes, hoes
neck and wrist froze, on bro (gang)
i ain’t playin’ wit’ em no (yeah, yeah), no
pour a motherf-ckin’ four, four
pour a motherf-ckin’ four, four
lamborghini slam my doors (woo), doors
i just pulled up in a ghost, ghost
f-ck that b-tch then adios, need my b-tches head to toes
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