Trap Jumpin Q Da Fool (Ft. D-Loww)
"Trap Jumpin" by Q Da Fool featuring D-Loww, released in 2020, is a #HipHop track that explores themes of hustle, street life, and resilience. The lyrics highlight the grind of making money in the trap, showcasing a raw and authentic perspective. Its energetic beat and catchy hooks contribute to its appeal, resonating with urban culture.
[Intro]
Trap Gospel
Ayy, ayy
[Verse 1: Q Da Fool]
Yeah, I heard the rumors (Huh)
Word around town they said, "Q, he ain't a shooter" (He ain't a what?)
Don't make me walk down with the Ruger
I got respect with the tech this shit produced by Lex Luger
How you gon' disrespect the gangster? I might just shoot at your Uber
Apply pressure to da' pack, nigga, I ain't cooking noodles
Hang wit' all Pitbulls these niggas hang out wit' poodles
Heard he flexin', heard he stuntin', so you know I gotta move 'em
Da' folks say ho on the block I had to get it by myself
A lot a gas, a lot of Molly, I keep guns pace by my belt
If a nigga think he cool bet this bullet make him melt
Close mouths don't get fed told your bitch to help herself
Niggas out here snitchin', on God, I won't say nothin'
Trap house jumpin'
Junkies keep on runnin' (Comin')
I done seen niggas switch up over a woman (Wow)
Swervin' they ain't nothin', the loyalty make it somethin' (Hello)
Shooters hoppin' out with the .40 on they hips
Everybody around me servin' zips and maybe bricks
I don't you so don't fuck around wit' me
Who gon' shoot first? it might be a murder scene
Trap Gospel
Ayy, ayy
[Verse 1: Q Da Fool]
Yeah, I heard the rumors (Huh)
Word around town they said, "Q, he ain't a shooter" (He ain't a what?)
Don't make me walk down with the Ruger
I got respect with the tech this shit produced by Lex Luger
How you gon' disrespect the gangster? I might just shoot at your Uber
Apply pressure to da' pack, nigga, I ain't cooking noodles
Hang wit' all Pitbulls these niggas hang out wit' poodles
Heard he flexin', heard he stuntin', so you know I gotta move 'em
Da' folks say ho on the block I had to get it by myself
A lot a gas, a lot of Molly, I keep guns pace by my belt
If a nigga think he cool bet this bullet make him melt
Close mouths don't get fed told your bitch to help herself
Niggas out here snitchin', on God, I won't say nothin'
Trap house jumpin'
Junkies keep on runnin' (Comin')
I done seen niggas switch up over a woman (Wow)
Swervin' they ain't nothin', the loyalty make it somethin' (Hello)
Shooters hoppin' out with the .40 on they hips
Everybody around me servin' zips and maybe bricks
I don't you so don't fuck around wit' me
Who gon' shoot first? it might be a murder scene
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