Z Money - Trappin' Off the Phone lyrics

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Z Money - Trappin' Off the Phone lyrics

[Intro] Yeah Kid Wond3r, you made this beat? Damn Z Money, Chiraq Mogul b**h, this no Suzuki, yeah Know how you comin’, n***a, yeah 1-0-1-7 [Chorus] b**h, this no Suzuki, this a motherf**in’ Harley Fresh as f** on my side lookin’ like they wanna rob me F&N so big, I hardly took it, they can’t rob me Anyway, big Camaro bustin’, this the [?] me 2012, I was cookin’ up with my Ashanti Sellin’ dope for real, put Ashanti to the luncheon Trappin’ off my phone, servin’ junkies at the luncheon Trappin’ off my phone, servin’ junkies at the luncheon [Verse 1] Better have that COD, no, we not with the frontin’ Hop up out the vert, I bought this vert off servin’ aunties 12 hundred for my shirt, I one time wear it, I don’t want it Sell it to [?], my diamonds hittin’ like it is sunny Better not start trippin’ in this b**h, I got my gun here Put ten thousand dollars on your head, now you a target Don’t be lackin’, don’t get k**ed out here tryna get your car fixed Dealin’ herron, can’t stop [?], so fresh, I had to log it Beat a brick, get down, want the [?] and then rerock it Switchin’ up my style, I’m performin’, I need to stop it Nowadays, I’m stylin’ and all of my diamonds rocky I hope that n***a got life insurance, I know who shot him [Chorus] b**h, this no Suzuki, this a motherf**in’ Harley Fresh as f** on my side lookin’ like they wanna rob me F&N so big, I hardly took it, they can’t rob me Anyway, big Camaro bustin’, this the [?] me 2012, I was cookin’ up with my Ashanti Sellin’ dope for real, put Ashanti to the luncheon Trappin’ off my phone, servin’ junkies at the luncheon Trappin’ off my phone, servin’ junkies at the luncheon [Verse 2] I got it, my habits, expensive a** fashion Expensive a** jacket, coupe color of rabbit Expensive a** Madden, hop out that b**h saggin’ b**hes always askin’, b**hes always baggin’ Plain rose gold, I thought it was cla**ic I came from plastic wrappin’, that’s if we talkin’ baggin’ Baking soda, eye it, gotta make sure you measure The junks say it’s a 9, that’s a perfect tester [Chorus] b**h, this no Suzuki, this a motherf**in’ Harley Fresh as f** on my side lookin’ like they wanna rob me F&N so big, I hardly took it, they can’t rob me Anyway, big Camaro bustin’, this the [?] me 2012, I was cookin’ up with my Ashanti Sellin’ dope for real, put Ashanti to the luncheon Trappin’ off my phone, servin’ junkies at the luncheon Trappin’ off my phone, servin’ junkies at the luncheon

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