Backstreet Trapland Pat & Luh Tyler

[Verse 1: Trapland Pat]
Get up in that [?] drugs, he tryna make [?]
Couldn't buy designer, he was dressing plane
Once we get the low, we push up on the [?]
It was me, no umbrella, standing in the rain
[?] traps [?] straps
Put him in the air, smoke him like a pack
On the tip was a twist, just to make a [?]
This ain't what you want, nigga, this ain't that
What that sound mean?
That somebody dying
Run[?] riding [?]
You can run, you can duck, but you can't hide
I tossed his ass overboard, tryna [?] mine
[?]
[?]
[?]
She steady going through my phone, tryna find [?]
[?] everybody do it
Pat just touched down, now we running through it
[?] we making music
And money call, we on the way, we be running to it
Back to the scrilla, can't comparе me to your niggas
Ain't nobody realer
Catch mе [?] through the jungle with some damn gorillas
[?] spending, we some fucking drillers
[?] you can go and check my rap sheet
305, we ain't [?] got a pack [?]
Never seen him outside, he just rap street
They know we always outside, on the backstreets