"Trap Or Die" lyrics

Your ho, she gon' search up, don't get mad, you cannot stop it
Pull up, all black coupe, windows tinted, you can't spot it
Get hit with thirteen shots, boy, this pistol from the rockets
Boy, your music suck, every song, your shit straight floppin'
Pour it up, bitch, I need them pints, pour the four up
My bro won't stop lackin', he can't put the fuckin' pole up
Hittin' like one-twenty and I think I'm finna go up
Just popped me two beans, not what it seems, I'm finna throw up
.30 on the Glock, and the chopper got red dot
Osama the [?], cracked a seal but it's not green
Hit the gas and go so far, I'm outta space on planet, shit
You can't turn yo back on 7.62, get hit in your spleen
Came through, flexin' on the bitch, she like, "Why you do this to me?"
Bitch the chopper very social, anti-social on my tee
Rock designer brands but you could get put on a tee for free
And that SK got a flash, say cheese
Lil' boy, you think you got it, but you get that shit from me
And you can send your shooter, he gon' get left on the scene
Smokin' on exotic, got this shit straight off a tree
Payed a ticket for that zip, boy, you know I get it for free
And I'm fuckin on your bitch, yeah, from the back and she gon' scream
Bitch, I'm aimin' at your head, I'm tryna put you in a dream
Nigga, fuck you and your gang, yeah, we be screamin', "Fuck your team"
Take your pack like, "Give me that," bet that lil' boy won't hit the scene