"TRAUMA ROOM" lyrics
(Yeah, Skinny, you wildin')
(Yo Skinny, you wildin', nigga)
How the fuck you get the bag—? Alright
How the fuck you get the bag wrong? Bitch, you—, ah
How the fuck you get the bag wrong? Bitch, you to count
How the fuck you smiling at the police? Bitch, you need to pout
She was finna leave me on seen—, alright
She was finna leave me on seen, then seen the O's in the account
Hundred thousand for a year, baby, that's a small amount
Snitchin' over spilled milk, nigga, don't know what y'all about
Hope your ex boyfriend—, ah
Hope your ex boyfriend dies of a codeine seizure
Hope your next man heart attack like as soon as he see ya
Every time I pull the bank out, they just don't believe it
Hope your ex die—, ah
Hope your ex dies of a car crash like—, come on
Hope your ex dies in a plane crash like her name Aaliyah
Alright, AC in the Benz, smoke a wood while I do 150
Pressure on the scale, I weigh a pound, I know my ex bitch miss me
Ever since I been a doctor, nigga, all these hoes wan' kiss me
She must think my name is Jolly Rancher 'cause she wan' come lick me
Shorty said I got a dirty mind, I said, "Girl, I'm filthy"
She asked if I been with someone like her, I said, "Girl, I'm guilty"
At least I'm never finna lie to you 'cause I know you felt me
I don't even got no friends no more, I just talk to Benji
All the presidents was racist, nigga, wipe my nose with twenties
Even Lincoln had salves, nigga, so I drive a Benzy
I just named my 8-ball, nigga, called this one McKenzie
Ah, nigga, this the doctor
Thought he'd get away with that knife, nigga, this the choppa
Left my elbows in the pot, like I'm whippin' pasta
I be with the clippers and a .9, like I'm surgeon [?]
(Yo Skinny, you wildin', nigga)
How the fuck you get the bag—? Alright
How the fuck you get the bag wrong? Bitch, you—, ah
How the fuck you get the bag wrong? Bitch, you to count
How the fuck you smiling at the police? Bitch, you need to pout
She was finna leave me on seen—, alright
She was finna leave me on seen, then seen the O's in the account
Hundred thousand for a year, baby, that's a small amount
Snitchin' over spilled milk, nigga, don't know what y'all about
Hope your ex boyfriend—, ah
Hope your ex boyfriend dies of a codeine seizure
Hope your next man heart attack like as soon as he see ya
Every time I pull the bank out, they just don't believe it
Hope your ex die—, ah
Hope your ex dies of a car crash like—, come on
Hope your ex dies in a plane crash like her name Aaliyah
Alright, AC in the Benz, smoke a wood while I do 150
Pressure on the scale, I weigh a pound, I know my ex bitch miss me
Ever since I been a doctor, nigga, all these hoes wan' kiss me
She must think my name is Jolly Rancher 'cause she wan' come lick me
Shorty said I got a dirty mind, I said, "Girl, I'm filthy"
She asked if I been with someone like her, I said, "Girl, I'm guilty"
At least I'm never finna lie to you 'cause I know you felt me
I don't even got no friends no more, I just talk to Benji
All the presidents was racist, nigga, wipe my nose with twenties
Even Lincoln had salves, nigga, so I drive a Benzy
I just named my 8-ball, nigga, called this one McKenzie
Ah, nigga, this the doctor
Thought he'd get away with that knife, nigga, this the choppa
Left my elbows in the pot, like I'm whippin' pasta
I be with the clippers and a .9, like I'm surgeon [?]
