Murda - Trenchez lyrics

[Produced by Murda Beatz] [Hook: Offset] It's a panarema in the driveway Feds watching, we in the projects They know we ain't posed to be driving that f**ing the natnats and alley cats Trap in the trenchez, we flex in the trenchez The police ain't liking that, we still handle business We trap in the trenchez, we flex in the trenchez The police ain't liking it, we still handle business [Verse 1: Offset] The trap got n***as on top of the roof they a**a**ins My plug from Saudi Arabia, call him Aladdin We pulling 'em triggers and 'Rarris and pull up in Aston (skr, skr, Aston Martin) The feds they mad, they know what we doin', can't catch us I stand on the stove, I beat the pot up like I'm Ca**ius They call me Chris Angel, work disappear like it is magic Look at the scale make sure the grams is accurate Wrap it in plastic, then I package it Mohammed need bricks up in Africa Go to California, we smoking medicals Trap professional, money all over my schedule I made a million, that's historical I Pray to God because I am biblical Work take her clothes off like a physical When I cook up a baby, they come out identical Bill Nye cause I'm whippin up chemicals Workin' been trapping ten years, boy you pitifull [Hook] [Verse 2: Skippa Da Flippa] We still handle business, sins I committed I'm countin up tickets I'm thumbing through Benjies Young n***a, I did it (I Did it, we did it) What's that in yo drive-way? Maybe Karma Fisker (skirr, Fisker?) Young n***a get witcha, yes, I'm tha Flippa Yes I will flip ya Shout out my big bruh Dwayne Bowe Who stay ten toes Might pull up in a Rover, hit me some hoes Then touchdown on the Migos We flexin' in minchi You wanna keep seat, n***a get yo own section So much gold on me, ice on me, money on me That you thought I was Freemason (Freemason) Neva, you after dem hoes Blue faces I'm chasin' She got a back in four thirty five Countin up green,you think that I'm plankton So what is you driving? It's nothing u riding I pull up in something you cannot pronounce And I smoke by the ounce [Hook] [Verse 3: Takeoff] (nah nah dont pick up, dont pick up, put your money back down, nah nah nah nah put your money back down) The hell is you doin'? f** is you doin'? Where the hell is you goin'? n***a trynna' steal my flow hit em 44 Make ya brain blow Murder she wrote F&N extendo' Subway Footlongs All I tote! In your neighborhood broad daylight searchin' for another kick door Slow it down, slow it down Speed it up breakin' that spatula whippin' that dope (Turn around, turn around) Baby I don't wanna f** you I just want that throat! I had a plan to work with that man I, I caught that man Now I'm the man Move to Afghanistan, now I got bands I'm speakin' the lingo you can't comprehend [Hook]