Trae

Trae - Couple Grand lyrics

Your rating:

(feat. Lil'Boss, Jay'Ton, Yung Joc)



[Chorus:]

A couple grand, price tag on your head - leave you layin where you stand

A couple grand, price tag on your head - on your head, on your head

A couple grand, price tag on your head - price tag on your head

A couple grand, price tag on your head - leave you layin where you stand



[Verse 1: Yung Joc]

Watch him die slow, then his eyes roll (uhh)

in the back of his head, now his body cold (uhh)

a couple grand, a couple shots

couple drip drops, now your leakin won't stop

bitch I'm the man just ask Block

shots rang out, you could hear 'em for a couple blocks (*gun firing*)

bitch what's my name, call me Yung Joc

I got a great aim all I need is one shot

everybody talkin in my nieghborhood (maaan)

I got great lawyers cause my paper good (yeah)

leave your body riddled, wheezin and coughin

here your body lye, box five in monica coffin

you fuck with mine, I'll cross ya life line

I'm a graffiti artist, paint chalk outlines

and the worst part (what it is) - is I'm not a coward

visit your wait and give your momma dead flowers



[Chorus]



[Talking:]

Yeah Joc I got this one for ya homie

let me get at this bitch, Assholes By Nature



[Verse 2: Trae]

I been sittin a second, but now I'm back for the drama

so tell that pussy nigga, he headed for trauma

you'd rather slap ya momma, 'fore you come fuckin with Trae

homie I'm 'Tha Truth'and I get in that ass with no delay

penitentaries, to cities, and ghettos I got it locked

I'm ABN go check the trunk (*schreeching tires*)I bet I'm fully stocked

I'm so deep in the streets - I started and ain't never gon'stop

and fuck a  [reversed]bitch, ya'll make sure ya'll rotate in the box

it ain't no greetin through the lines, I spitt it clear as day

niggas gay, plus it's understood you get it - how you play

I call the shots around my way, I'm that nigga in charge

and fuck the talk, you better see me with an entourage



[Verse 3: Yung Joc]

This is not a movie (cut) - no re runs

all sells final, no refunds

once I make the payment, the hits out

I'm not Jeezy - I ain't swappin shit out (that's right)

first I tell 'em (what you tell 'em?) - where I want it done (where you want it?)

in the back yard, right in front of his son (*screaming*)

then I tell 'em (what you tell 'em) - where to drop him off

in the Chattahoochie with his dick chopped off (damn)

yeah it sounds harsh, but it's well deserved

feed his ass to the sharks, for Our'dueuvres

no remorse, no pity

this could happen to you in New Joc City



[Chorus]



[Verse 4: Lil'Boss]

Before the day I want this bitch knocked the fuck off the globe

while I'm posted inside my crib, in a Hoover blue robe

it's Lil'Boss, I send my villans to seek an elobe

dumpin a few, makin these niggas hop fences like toads

better practice what they be preechin when fuckin with me

I introduce yo'ass to hell when fuckin with me

I got some niggas that'll go do the job for free

you lose yo'life when tryna mob in the streets like me

any action you niggas takin need to discipline

you bangin with a Hoover gang criminal, bitch you listenin (ya heard me)

price tag on your head, rice bag for the lead

bitch niggas gon'get it the right way, cause it's a code red



[Verse 5: Jay'Ton]

I gotta couple grand for any nigga that want it

you shouldn't have started, now you done got me up on it

see I got niggas from the West, all the way to fifth ward

I'm Hoover crippin, I got Blood's and B.D's in my squad

it's Jay'Ton nigga and now I'm set trippin

it's A.B.N you better chill before you come up missin

they call me Tarzan bitch cause I run with guerillas

I'm certified my older brother Dinkie was a killer

I'm Slow Loud to the Bang, and I bang to the left

you violate me and I swear I'm gon'bang to the death (BOW)

and it's a damn shame, but I'm playin it dirty

I'm barely twenty, fuck nigga you damn near out ya thirties



[Verse 6: Yung Joc]

I gotta couple killers, down in pre - trial

put glass in your food, you shit - your guts leak out

the sheriff call your mother and she freak out (*crying*)

got her hittin member up, got him on speed dial

ooh it ain't nothin, but a call away

come home find, your baby sister in the hallway

9 - 1 - 1, but it's too late

she lookin like a maxi pad, bleedin through the duct tape



[Chorus: repeat 'til end]
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found