feat. Lil` B
[Trae]
Guerilla Maab in the trunk, when I`m whipping the boulevard
Rearrange the block when I swang and bang, I`m gripping grain
Banging Maan when the cd change, and leave stains till a motherfucker
Know my name I`m Lil` Trae, hey nigga what they say
The young gun fin to come, tipping up few quay, blue over gray
AK`s on cock I don`t play, on the grind full time to ball and parlay
I can flip my tongue, and make a nigga say whoa
If you really want plex, what it do here I go
Niggas don`t no hoes, are coming up out of the Maab
Stepping out pimp stripes, laced up with a Dob hat
Grab a gat, nigga where the hatas at
Like that Mr. Fat Pat, we fin to rat-a-tat
To make a nigga blood back, you don`t wanna see that
I`m fin to be breaking em off, when I click on wax
Cocking the glock dropping the top, and making em up out the box
And body rocking the lot, and leaving a nigga shot
When I step out, bitch niggas be on the run
Nigga come and get some, you don`t really want none
I`m a thug nigga, fucking with me you fin to get sprayed
I`m screwed up and throwed off, and gone in the brain
Representing my click, to the fullest everyday all day
Stepping to us, fifteen coming your way
Shotgun blast, keep a nigga moving it fast
When I set it off, making a nigga feel like trash
Guerilla Maab competitors stand, and hitting yeah
And if a nigga don`t know, I`m fin to be breaking yeah
Pretty licking yes a nigga, what you be talking about
I`ma ride for the South, till the house get burned down
Shut down, nigga be coming way too throwed
You know Guerilla Maab made niggas, out of control