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Fruit Pack Lyrics

Chris Travis – Fruit Pack Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Smoking packs, smell like fruit
Pull up bitch, [?]
Hit a lit, fuck a crew
She gon' move, how she move
Hashish sticks, up in school
Now I'm headed, to the moon
Got your bitch, off the shroom
Now she headed, to her doom
And I keep like 50K
Niggas slaves, niggas bait
And I keep my business straight
Bigger plate, fish n steak
And fuck with all bitches
It don't matter, any race
And I keep a large limit
Fuck what any nigga say

[Verse 2]
Tell, like, B, who the fuck you be?
Nigga, yeah, that's me
For some beep, niggas swoosh and sweep
Bitch is bitter sweet
Hit my phone, lil bitch what you need?
I can't help your niece
On my own, with my family tree, my niggas different breed
Think you tough, think you bout that, push and scout back
Fuck a bitch, I ain't bout that, where the cash at?
Staying loyal, I won't doubt that
Blowin' fat pack, losing screws out your [?]
Get the fuck back


[Verse 3]
I'm on a move
All you niggas snooze
[?]
Got your boo
She might adjust my shoes
Clean the livin' room
Coming soon
All you niggas lose
Fuck the game, no rules
I'm the truth and I play my dues
Like I went to school
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