Fat Trel Shhh (Freestyle) ft. Meek Mill, Rick Ross, Tracy T tekst piosenki i tłumaczenie. Posłuchaj MP3 i obejrzyj teledysk z Youtube oraz sprawdź chwyty.

Tekst piosenki

[Intro: Rick Ross]

All I ever wanted was a kilo

Till they my little nigga with the rico

Fat Trel, Maybach Murda Gang

Mastermind, double M


[Verse 1: Fat Trel]

Nigga tell me how you want it with a savage

It get crazy where I'm living it's tragic

If you can take it from my pocket you can have it

You know I got a body bag in the trash

You know I got an old thot you can have

Nigga couldn't fuck my old bitch

Niggas couldn't eat my old pussy

I'm in the kitchen I could tell you how the stove looking

Nigga all I really wanted was the pyrex

A couple hundred body snatchers in the projects

You know my plug stay connected like direct

I'm in Miami my bitches like "where Lebron at?"

I finish fucking her and finish like "where your mom at?"

In front the coppers I got choppers for the combat

Couldn't believe it my niggas say he was sellin' grenades

Keep bullshittin' and ima sit you where the bomb at

D.C. nigga, sittin wrist whip dough

He ain't know a chopper price get this low

See I cop em' in Atlanta bring em' back to Alabama Avenue

And tell them niggas "come and get it let's go"

Fifty in the Mac take em' back to Benning Road

Strippa bitches in my kitchen with the semi's on the floor

All I know I want him dead by tonight

With his head in his lap and his body at the light

Purchase me some Act and I'm a pour me some Sprite

Tell a bitch keep counting till she get the count right

When a bitch finish might purchase her a flight

Might take her whole life

Might fuck her all night

Right, you know I hate to say it twice

But you pussy ass niggas ain't bout that life

Pussy ass niggas ain't bout that life

Pussy ass niggas ain't bout that life


[Hook]

Talking 'bout you popping tags, nigga you ain't bought shit

Talking bout a hunned bottles, nigga you ain't popped shit

All you talk nana clips, nigga you ain't shot shit

Spending money on these hoes, nigga you ain't fuck shit


[Verse 2: Tracy T]

My killas got shooters on shooters

My killas got shooters on shooters

My killas got shooters on shooters

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang

Knock em down hundred rounds, lotta pounds, kilograms on the ave

How you want it? Quarter thang, half thang, whole slab?

Young Atlanta nigga pull a hammer on ya

Pull up on a nigga in a California

Teach a lame how to flip a couple numbers

Whole summer dope runners getting more commers

Money got me geekin', damn I need more

Alejandro bringin' in them truckloads

Copy that, get racks, nigga ten-four

Choppa bullets just rip a nigga head off

Clip long as a little nigga leg dawg

Empty that and the barrel just smoke

Closed casket, nigga head open

Peel the top back, yeah I’m in the foreign

Wide body and it sittin' on Forgies

Choppa kick like Chuck Norris

Ralph Lauren, my engine full of horses

Aim game insane nigga I’m a marksman

Cocaine white y’all niggas flip porcelain

Blow worth a fortune, million on the fortress

Niggas totin' AK’s like they Glock 40’s


[Hook]

Talking 'bout you popping tags, nigga you ain't bought shit

Talking bout a hunned bottles, nigga you ain't popped shit

All you talk nana clips, nigga you ain't shot shit

Spending money on these hoes, nigga you ain't fuck shit


[Verse 3: Meek Mill]

Thirty in the clip catch the whole thing

Feds know a nigga by his whole name

Shoot him in his head for his gold chain

You was running ball, we was sellin' cocaine

Talkin bout you buyin' bricks, nigga you ain't got shit

We was sellin' all them keys, we was like the locksmith

Twenty-Five hundred for the red bottoms

Balmain five bands for the waist nigga

I'm rollin' through my city in a new Rolls Royce

Cheif Keef 300 for the Wraith nigga

A.K, S.K, H.K nigga, three K's like I hate niggas

And I'll put you in your place nigga

You got shoebox money I got a safe nigga holdup


[Hook]

Talking 'bout you popping tags, nigga you ain't bought shit

Talking bout a hunned bottles, nigga you ain't popped shit

All you talk nana clips, nigga you ain't shot shit

Spending money on these hoes, nigga you ain't fuck shit


[Verse 4: Rick Ross]

Automatic pistol on a nigga leather seat

See a bad bitch she my jam of the week

All I ever wanted was a kilo

Till they hit my little nigga with the RICO

Bitches lookin' at me, Keisha look at all this change

It's the heart of war tour bus full of K's

Master P money I could pull up in a tank

C Murda shooter know a pill on the way

Still [?]

Rich niggas coming through you broke niggas better move

At your front door got word you got work

3.5 for the key of the purp

Now six figures for this fat niggas verse

All eyes on me as I'm walking through the church

Prayin' lord forgive me, 30 shots in the semi

I done paid all of my tithes now it's time to go and get it

My new plug don't fuck with the cut

My new bitch gettin' fucked in the butt

Ridin' by the [?] see me sitting in the trunk

Niggas say they coming threw but they see me strapped up, what

Nigga runnin' in your house for the brown bag

Feds wanna know how much in the brown bag

Nigga swinging that stick for the brown bag

Your bitch even saw my number on the brown bag

All I ever wanted was Kilo

Till they hit my lil' woe with the Rico

Sippin' on purp niggas still got a pint

Still moving work nigga ooh what night

Ooh what a night, ooh what a night

Post a picture of that pussy get 200 likes

200 likes all that bitch getting from me is them 200 likes


[Hook]

Talking 'bout you popping tags, nigga you ain't bought shit

Talking bout a hunned bottles, nigga you ain't popped shit

All you talk nana clips, nigga you ain't shot shit

Spending money on these hoes, nigga you ain't fuck shit 

Tłumaczenie