"Trunks" lyrics
(from "Highest 2 Lowest" soundtrack)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back, uh
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back, uh
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back, uh
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Back)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back, uh
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Back)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh), yeah (Uh), yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh), yeah (Uh), yeah, yeah, uh (What's up?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Get him), yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh (Get him back)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
At thirty-five and I'm still a purty guy
Pussy never dry, you know shawty certified
Pancake-ass niggas stay turnin' sides (Uh-huh)
Cookie cutter niggas, soda pop, yeah, they Canada Dry, uh (Uh-huh)
Fuck a fight, nighty-night if we shoot the five
Who we bop, hit 'em low, nigga, shoot him high
Suit and tie, they crossed the boy so many times, feel crucified (Yeah)
Bumpin' Koopsta Knicca in my coupe, my doors still suicide
Shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony (Uh)
Shoutout-shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony (Ooh, ooh)
Shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony (Ooh, uh)
Young felon nigga uptown, fuck who tellin' me (Ooh, ooh)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Ooh, ooh)
All gold fronts from the front to the back (Ooh, ooh)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Ooh, ooh)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Ooh, uh-huh)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh), yeah (Uh), yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh), yeah (Uh), yeah, yeah, uh (What's up?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Get him), yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh (Get him back)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
BBL, think they built
They strainin' when they trainin' in the gym
They think they Wilt Chamberlain
Can't name a bitch who pussy I ain't killed (For real)
You lame as shit, we ain't forget
The muscles, they ain't real, yeah, yeah, uh
Shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony
Shoutout-shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony
Shoutout-shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony (Shoutout the felons, uh)
Young felon nigga uptown, fuck who tellin' me (Ooh, ooh)
Of course, I ride around the bros
Of course, I'm sellin' out my shows
Of course, I slime and wipe my nose
Of course, your honor, I can't go to court
My baby mom want child support
Fuck college, can't enroll no course
She celebrate and pop the cork, of course
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Uh, uh)
Nigga got a grudge, motherfucker, where ya at? (Uh, uh, give it to 'em)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Where they at? Put it up)
Nigga try to front, we gon' leave 'em where he at (Brrt, back)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back
(I got niggas in they cell, goin' crazy in the jail, well)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back
(Tell the judge, "Don't be holdin' grudge, suck-suck my nuts")
(I'd rather be a thug) I'd rather be a thug
(I'd rather be a thug) I'd rather be a thug
(Send bullets than a hug) I don't give no fuck
(Yeah, hate and no love) Pack out the trunk from the front to the back
(Niggas in they cell, goin' crazy in the jail, well)
(Shoutouts to the real ones, the ones who never tellin')
(Shoutouts to my fellas, shoutouts to my fellas)
(Shoutouts to the real ones, the ones who never tellin')
(Shoutouts to my fellas, shoutouts to my fellas)
(Shoutouts to the real ones, the ones who never tellin')
(Shoutouts to my fellas, shoutouts to my fellas)
(Shoutouts to the fellas, the ones who never tellin')
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back, uh
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back, uh
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Back)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back, uh
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Back)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh), yeah (Uh), yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh), yeah (Uh), yeah, yeah, uh (What's up?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Get him), yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh (Get him back)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
At thirty-five and I'm still a purty guy
Pussy never dry, you know shawty certified
Pancake-ass niggas stay turnin' sides (Uh-huh)
Cookie cutter niggas, soda pop, yeah, they Canada Dry, uh (Uh-huh)
Fuck a fight, nighty-night if we shoot the five
Who we bop, hit 'em low, nigga, shoot him high
Suit and tie, they crossed the boy so many times, feel crucified (Yeah)
Bumpin' Koopsta Knicca in my coupe, my doors still suicide
Shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony (Uh)
Shoutout-shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony (Ooh, ooh)
Shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony (Ooh, uh)
Young felon nigga uptown, fuck who tellin' me (Ooh, ooh)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Ooh, ooh)
All gold fronts from the front to the back (Ooh, ooh)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Ooh, ooh)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Ooh, uh-huh)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh), yeah (Uh), yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh), yeah (Uh), yeah, yeah, uh (What's up?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Get him), yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh (Get him back)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
BBL, think they built
They strainin' when they trainin' in the gym
They think they Wilt Chamberlain
Can't name a bitch who pussy I ain't killed (For real)
You lame as shit, we ain't forget
The muscles, they ain't real, yeah, yeah, uh
Shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony
Shoutout-shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony
Shoutout-shoutouts to my felons, boy, we caught another felony (Shoutout the felons, uh)
Young felon nigga uptown, fuck who tellin' me (Ooh, ooh)
Of course, I ride around the bros
Of course, I'm sellin' out my shows
Of course, I slime and wipe my nose
Of course, your honor, I can't go to court
My baby mom want child support
Fuck college, can't enroll no course
She celebrate and pop the cork, of course
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Uh, uh)
Nigga got a grudge, motherfucker, where ya at? (Uh, uh, give it to 'em)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back (Where they at? Put it up)
Nigga try to front, we gon' leave 'em where he at (Brrt, back)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back
(I got niggas in they cell, goin' crazy in the jail, well)
Pack out the trunk from the front to the back
(Tell the judge, "Don't be holdin' grudge, suck-suck my nuts")
(I'd rather be a thug) I'd rather be a thug
(I'd rather be a thug) I'd rather be a thug
(Send bullets than a hug) I don't give no fuck
(Yeah, hate and no love) Pack out the trunk from the front to the back
(Niggas in they cell, goin' crazy in the jail, well)
(Shoutouts to the real ones, the ones who never tellin')
(Shoutouts to my fellas, shoutouts to my fellas)
(Shoutouts to the real ones, the ones who never tellin')
(Shoutouts to my fellas, shoutouts to my fellas)
(Shoutouts to the real ones, the ones who never tellin')
(Shoutouts to my fellas, shoutouts to my fellas)
(Shoutouts to the fellas, the ones who never tellin')
