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Correct The Trailer Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: A
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Ace Hood
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Correct The Trailer
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Lyrics:
Uh, okay now fuck all this bullshit, I’m fresh off a full clip Counting this fucking money, did that with no scholarship I guess what that money taught, so fuck what you niggas thought My bitch got a porsche truck, like look what that pussy parked Got that hustler demeanor, fresh and I’m out that two seater Got to sleep with the reaper, and watch out for them people Cause the devil be lurkin’, all these pistols are dirty All my niggas is riders, their clips extended with thirty I woke up early this morning, thanked the lord I’m alive Kissed my daughter then told my lady I’m back on the grind Gotta do it for?, that’s my daily remind Fuck these bitches, the money, power, respect on my mind It ain’t no love for the week, ain’t no top on the jeep Tell them haters I’m over sea’s, I’ll be back in a week I’m trying to get richer than trump, a couple million for lunch I need the cover of forbes with we the best on the front I’m going main, nigga kiss my ass These niggas be stealing my flow and all, ain’t even mad I swear my flow is dope as coke, come get your bag Just bought that aston martin, ymmm’, that fucker fast Nigga started with a dollar and a dream, show me the cream All about that profit piling, partner that’s by any means That fifty-thousand in my pocket busting out the seams Hopping out that coupe, that roof go missing bitch like bada-bing Knock knock, bang bang, ever since back then they wanna know who I be H double-o-d, was running the streets since I was like seventeen I put it on mama, always dreamed of having a lamborghin’ Them niggas was hating, still I was skating in that? Oh I mean? It’s money over bitches, what my niggas claim Probably in the whip with my little spanish thing All day, in the back of the back number nine j’s I be balling, small thing know what I mean? I say what’s up with them bitches? molly, weed, and some liquor I’m the type of nigga do you first and then your sister I’m a savage, with fifty karats Came from the bottom of the barrel, to living lavish Blood on my sneakers, brother’s keeper I see dead people ‘bout them figures, squeeze them triggers I’m just soul seeking I think you pussy, I can smell it on you loud and clear And since my daddy left me young, I ran up out of fear And when it come down to my family, bitch I die for them Blow that chopper through your chest to show you shit is real
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