Hit the road with Ty
Rollin' out the whole bar, I need the whole pack
You at the crib, broke, you depressed, you need a Prozac
Tell my brothers that I'm ridin' till it's four flats
Crack the windows on the whip,
It's like a smokestack
Baby cold, put my hands on her like a mouse pad
She tryna f*ckin' get up in a ina' house bag
Y'all be followin' these trends, goin' out bad
I put money in the walls, cause I'm bout bands
Put a safe in my concrete floor, too
Chillin' countin' up a 50 ball, this shit'll bore you
Blowed' ridin', round the city, lookin' for some more juice
You need to kill the beef and get a check, I tried to warn you
A lot of people dyin' bout the shit they live by
In Bloomfield, chillin' with the plug, we off M5
I done ran through a 50 pack at least ten times
Fit wet as hell, I swear to God, I need to drip dry
I'm bout to hit a road trip, shit, I'm with Ty
Bag on me, got me irritated, I can't get high
Dumped a whole 30 at the Ops, made the whip stop
On the way to MIA, but in KY, we made a pit stop
Ayy, Krown pull over, I think I got a piss
Noddin' off the drink while we drivin', I sip a lot of Tris
Lot of dog food on the whip, but it is not a pit
Beat the brakes off a fiend ass over some counterfeit
Make a stop in Tennessee, I heard these oranges jumpin
I can get connects in any city, got a lot of cousins
Nationwide, this glock is on my side, that's my life assurance
Know a couple scammers gettin' rich off of life insurance
Ayy, but it can't be me, unk' been smokin' dope since 83
He still pay the fee, took a lot of L's, I can't complain
This shit made me me, I can take the rock from anybody
I'm CP3,
Huh, ayy, my opps' can D.I.E
Krown, put your foot up on the gas if you see police
Feds tryna look up in the crib, this ain't MTV
Attention Deficit Disorder, make my money A.D.D
We aint', homies, you ain't know me when my name was DOC
Used to buss the scripts at T.T. House, back then was 8 a Pop
Now I'm drinkin' soda on the road, pourin' fours of Wock
Game ain't really changed except the weight, cause I gained a lot
Road Trip (feat. ATM Krown) Video (MV)
OTR Ty - Road Trip (feat. ATM Krown) Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Hit the road with Ty
Rollin' out the whole bar, I need the whole pack
You at the crib, broke, you depressed, you need a Prozac
Tell my brothers that I'm ridin' till it's four flats
Crack the windows on the whip,
It's like a smokestack
Baby cold, put my hands on her like a mouse pad
She tryna f*ckin' get up in a ina' house bag
Y'all be followin' these trends, goin' out bad
I put money in the walls, cause I'm bout bands
Put a safe in my concrete floor, too
Chillin' countin' up a 50 ball, this shit'll bore you
Blowed' ridin', round the city, lookin' for some more juice
You need to kill the beef and get a check, I tried to warn you
A lot of people dyin' bout the shit they live by
In Bloomfield, chillin' with the plug, we off M5
I done ran through a 50 pack at least ten times
Fit wet as hell, I swear to God, I need to drip dry
I'm bout to hit a road trip, shit, I'm with Ty
Bag on me, got me irritated, I can't get high
Dumped a whole 30 at the Ops, made the whip stop
On the way to MIA, but in KY, we made a pit stop
Ayy, Krown pull over, I think I got a piss
Noddin' off the drink while we drivin', I sip a lot of Tris
Lot of dog food on the whip, but it is not a pit
Beat the brakes off a fiend ass over some counterfeit
Make a stop in Tennessee, I heard these oranges jumpin
I can get connects in any city, got a lot of cousins
Nationwide, this glock is on my side, that's my life assurance
Know a couple scammers gettin' rich off of life insurance
Ayy, but it can't be me, unk' been smokin' dope since 83
He still pay the fee, took a lot of L's, I can't complain
This shit made me me, I can take the rock from anybody
I'm CP3,
Huh, ayy, my opps' can D.I.E
Krown, put your foot up on the gas if you see police
Feds tryna look up in the crib, this ain't MTV
Attention Deficit Disorder, make my money A.D.D
We aint', homies, you ain't know me when my name was DOC
Used to buss the scripts at T.T. House, back then was 8 a Pop
Now I'm drinkin' soda on the road, pourin' fours of Wock
Game ain't really changed except the weight, cause I gained a lot
Rollin' out the whole bar, I need the whole pack
You at the crib, broke, you depressed, you need a Prozac
Tell my brothers that I'm ridin' till it's four flats
Crack the windows on the whip,
It's like a smokestack
Baby cold, put my hands on her like a mouse pad
She tryna f*ckin' get up in a ina' house bag
Y'all be followin' these trends, goin' out bad
I put money in the walls, cause I'm bout bands
Put a safe in my concrete floor, too
Chillin' countin' up a 50 ball, this shit'll bore you
Blowed' ridin', round the city, lookin' for some more juice
You need to kill the beef and get a check, I tried to warn you
A lot of people dyin' bout the shit they live by
In Bloomfield, chillin' with the plug, we off M5
I done ran through a 50 pack at least ten times
Fit wet as hell, I swear to God, I need to drip dry
I'm bout to hit a road trip, shit, I'm with Ty
Bag on me, got me irritated, I can't get high
Dumped a whole 30 at the Ops, made the whip stop
On the way to MIA, but in KY, we made a pit stop
Ayy, Krown pull over, I think I got a piss
Noddin' off the drink while we drivin', I sip a lot of Tris
Lot of dog food on the whip, but it is not a pit
Beat the brakes off a fiend ass over some counterfeit
Make a stop in Tennessee, I heard these oranges jumpin
I can get connects in any city, got a lot of cousins
Nationwide, this glock is on my side, that's my life assurance
Know a couple scammers gettin' rich off of life insurance
Ayy, but it can't be me, unk' been smokin' dope since 83
He still pay the fee, took a lot of L's, I can't complain
This shit made me me, I can take the rock from anybody
I'm CP3,
Huh, ayy, my opps' can D.I.E
Krown, put your foot up on the gas if you see police
Feds tryna look up in the crib, this ain't MTV
Attention Deficit Disorder, make my money A.D.D
We aint', homies, you ain't know me when my name was DOC
Used to buss the scripts at T.T. House, back then was 8 a Pop
Now I'm drinkin' soda on the road, pourin' fours of Wock
Game ain't really changed except the weight, cause I gained a lot
Writer: OTR Ty, ATM Krown
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid