Trap House Kourtney Money (Ft. Young Nudy)

[Intro: Kenny Mac]
If you ain't got no tape with Kenny Mac you lackin’
If you ain't got no beats from Kenny Mac you lackin' man
That nigga the plug man, I could merch nigga
Step your fucking weight up man
DJ Vell

[Chorus: Kourtney Money]
I was chillin at the mothafuckin trap house, nigga lookin out for the police
Nigga talkin shit like he know me, I’mma pull up on his ass like he owe me
Nigga talkin' beef gotta show me, fuck nigga you don't really know me
Yeah I hang with the killers and the OG's, fuck nigga you don't really know me
I was chillin' at the motherfuckin' trap house, nigga lookin' out for the police
Nigga talkin’ shit like he know me, I’mma pull up on his ass like he owe me
Nigga talkin' beef gotta show me, fuck nigga you don’t really know me
Yeah I hang with the killers and the OG's, fuck nigga you don't really know me

[Verse 1: Young Nudy]
Boolin' out the motherfuckin’ trap house, with a couple young niggas and a couple OG's
Friendly riding through the fucking back street know the AK-47 sitting on the back seat
Pussy nigga would tryna try me, .223 motherfucker don't try me
I'mma sweep off with your fit, paradise eat everybody know
Slidin' through the bih with the big homie, grippin' lotta cheese know I keep the macaroni
Young nigga acting like Tony, snort a whole line he gon' go macaroni
Knock off your head like a split, buss your head down like a whole damn brick
Yall niggas ain't really talking shit
You talkin real talk but I ain't worry bout shit
Yall nigga better ask around slime who done ran that motherfucker nigga yeah straight up and down
All up in your bitch mouth, one fucking royal bitch bitch gonna pull her panties down
Niggas thought that they was my opponent, you crazy homie
Slime noon and you know I stay on it