Trap Money Gucci Mane (Ft. FTO Sett & Li Rye)

[Chorus: Sett]
I still got trap money (Trap), extortion and rap money (Rap), if I'm bein' honest (I'm bein' honest)
Murder and love, keep it three hundred, them members gon' die 'bout that money (Gon' die 'bout that bread)
Runnin' with jackers (Jackers), certified smackers (Smackers), don't get wrapped like mummy (Wrapped like mummy)
Addin' 'em up (Addin' 'em), lay in your bushes, nigga, Monday through Sunday (Monday through Sunday)
King Crook, you get slimed for nothin'
Mask down, Shiesty'll be home 'fore the summer (Free Shiesty)
Get up in line, you niggas be runners (Get up and run 'em)
Tryna book Crook, better come with some commas (Commas)
This shit better come up in bundles (In a bag)
Promotors be trippin', they lie, we gon' bump 'em
Send a blitz too fast, all they know is thump 'em (Get 'em touched)
Three hundred through his shit, I ain't give him a number

[Verse 1: Li Rye]
My head was hard as a bitch, so I went and got me a glizzy and put it to work
Ain't worried 'bout no nigga steppin' on me, he play wrong in this bitch and I'm uppin' it first
I don't need no switch, I can go spin with this semi and make the bitch shoot like a burst
Headtap, leave that bitch in a hearse
Same nigga be tryna be friendly, still be gettin' they ass taxed for a verse
Bitch, I'm Big 26, I hop out with a stick
Better stay out the way or get hit in the face
Ain't no competition with these niggas
And I don't take 'em serious, when they look at this shit like a race
Bad bitch gon' eat the dick off the rip
All these blues on a nigga, might think I'm a Crip
Catch 'em lackin', I'm uppin' that bitch off the hip
Throwin' fours 'til I die, nigga, shout out to Flip