(Trauma Unit)
My weed too loud
My bitch too bad
My money too long
(F*ck you, Trauma Unit)
Ventin' get you talked about
F*ck boy, we can't talk it out
.223, got F&N
I made his ass walk it out
He was feelin' confident
But that boy not feelin' cocky now
She was in my ear like,
"What the f*ck have you been talking bout?"
Shoot him, send his ass to heaven
I tote this Mac 11
Crossbow on my shit like Kevin
But we don't talk bout Kevin
Get up off yo ass and get some bread, why you think Imma do it
They won't ever hit a moving target, I'm still Trauma Unit
F*ck yo bitch, I f*ck her guts up
This Glocky f*ck yo guts up
Yo bitch got lots to say bout you
I like her when she shut up
He gon' catch a hunnid rounds
AR on my shoulder
Yeah we beefin' now, but you gon' hit my line when this shit over
You was out here chasing bags, I bring it home like every night
Told my brother hold on to this bread, cuz I'm buying somethin' light
She think that I'm moving my dick when I hold this pistol tight
I feel jus like Bladee, baby, take a knife and drain ya life
Pick the pack up
That's a score
I'm the type of dude to spend some money when I'm bored
The way I hit the road, yo ass would think I been on tour
I can't wait 'til he grow up so I can take him on a score
Ventin' get you talked about
F*ck boy, we can't talk it out
.223, got F&N
So I made his ass walk it out
He was feelin' confident
But that boy not feelin' cocky now
She was in my ear like,
"What the f*ck have you been talking bout?"
Shoot him, send his ass to heaven
I tote this Mac 11
Crossbow on my shit like Kevin
But we don't talk bout Kevin
Get up off yo ass and get some bread, why you think Imma do it
They wont ever hit a moving target, I'm still Trauma Unit
(Take a knife and drain ya life)
(F*ck you, Trauma Unit)
fightharmful - ventin Lyrics
fightharmful - ventin Lyrics
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English
(Trauma Unit)
My weed too loud
My bitch too bad
My money too long
(F*ck you, Trauma Unit)
Ventin' get you talked about
F*ck boy, we can't talk it out
.223, got F&N
I made his ass walk it out
He was feelin' confident
But that boy not feelin' cocky now
She was in my ear like,
"What the f*ck have you been talking bout?"
Shoot him, send his ass to heaven
I tote this Mac 11
Crossbow on my shit like Kevin
But we don't talk bout Kevin
Get up off yo ass and get some bread, why you think Imma do it
They won't ever hit a moving target, I'm still Trauma Unit
F*ck yo bitch, I f*ck her guts up
This Glocky f*ck yo guts up
Yo bitch got lots to say bout you
I like her when she shut up
He gon' catch a hunnid rounds
AR on my shoulder
Yeah we beefin' now, but you gon' hit my line when this shit over
You was out here chasing bags, I bring it home like every night
Told my brother hold on to this bread, cuz I'm buying somethin' light
She think that I'm moving my dick when I hold this pistol tight
I feel jus like Bladee, baby, take a knife and drain ya life
Pick the pack up
That's a score
I'm the type of dude to spend some money when I'm bored
The way I hit the road, yo ass would think I been on tour
I can't wait 'til he grow up so I can take him on a score
Ventin' get you talked about
F*ck boy, we can't talk it out
.223, got F&N
So I made his ass walk it out
He was feelin' confident
But that boy not feelin' cocky now
She was in my ear like,
"What the f*ck have you been talking bout?"
Shoot him, send his ass to heaven
I tote this Mac 11
Crossbow on my shit like Kevin
But we don't talk bout Kevin
Get up off yo ass and get some bread, why you think Imma do it
They wont ever hit a moving target, I'm still Trauma Unit
(Take a knife and drain ya life)
(F*ck you, Trauma Unit)
My weed too loud
My bitch too bad
My money too long
(F*ck you, Trauma Unit)
Ventin' get you talked about
F*ck boy, we can't talk it out
.223, got F&N
I made his ass walk it out
He was feelin' confident
But that boy not feelin' cocky now
She was in my ear like,
"What the f*ck have you been talking bout?"
Shoot him, send his ass to heaven
I tote this Mac 11
Crossbow on my shit like Kevin
But we don't talk bout Kevin
Get up off yo ass and get some bread, why you think Imma do it
They won't ever hit a moving target, I'm still Trauma Unit
F*ck yo bitch, I f*ck her guts up
This Glocky f*ck yo guts up
Yo bitch got lots to say bout you
I like her when she shut up
He gon' catch a hunnid rounds
AR on my shoulder
Yeah we beefin' now, but you gon' hit my line when this shit over
You was out here chasing bags, I bring it home like every night
Told my brother hold on to this bread, cuz I'm buying somethin' light
She think that I'm moving my dick when I hold this pistol tight
I feel jus like Bladee, baby, take a knife and drain ya life
Pick the pack up
That's a score
I'm the type of dude to spend some money when I'm bored
The way I hit the road, yo ass would think I been on tour
I can't wait 'til he grow up so I can take him on a score
Ventin' get you talked about
F*ck boy, we can't talk it out
.223, got F&N
So I made his ass walk it out
He was feelin' confident
But that boy not feelin' cocky now
She was in my ear like,
"What the f*ck have you been talking bout?"
Shoot him, send his ass to heaven
I tote this Mac 11
Crossbow on my shit like Kevin
But we don't talk bout Kevin
Get up off yo ass and get some bread, why you think Imma do it
They wont ever hit a moving target, I'm still Trauma Unit
(Take a knife and drain ya life)
(F*ck you, Trauma Unit)
Writer: Fight Harmony
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid