Trap Anthem
[Intro]
Migo!
(A$AP) A$AP!
Woo! (pull up, pull up)
Cozy Boys (pull up, pull up)
[Chorus: Quavo & A$AP Ferg]
Pour an 8th, that's a dirty Fanta
That's what I call a Tropicana
Take the blow, hold them at ransom
That's what I call a trap anthem
This is the real trap anthem
Fuck a bad bitch in a Phantom
Fuck a rich bitch in the bathroom
Eyy, this is the real trap anthem
[Verse 1: A$AP Ferg]
Swagging on these hoes
Leave these bitches with the dogs
All my niggas in the room
And we finna fuck them all
Bout to hit a Marty Baller
Tell these bitches to bring the sauce
Pockets fat, Ricky Ross
Feelin' like I am the boss
Yeah I'm driving the Porsche
I could be flying a coupe
I could be flying the Honda
Nigga I'm swaggin' on you
Check how I rap in the booth
I'm letting the animal loose
I'm feelin' like I'm the nigga that could kill it
Just don't let it happen to you
[Verse 2: Quavo & Takeoff]
I'm been in and out of the country
I've been chasing all the money
You know I came from nothing
And the bando still bunkin'
I keep the banana for monkeys
If I see 12 on the block then we runnin'
The trap is a jungle, no fumblin'
If I see fences, my nigga, I'm jumpin'
This the trap anthem
Migo's, A$AP propaganda
You know we handsome
Your pocket got cancer
Turn the Ritz to Airbnb
She a dirty dancer
We're fuckin' up that powder
Then fuck Mr. Arm & Hammer
Then make a movie
My nigga pulling up with Uzi's
So don't pursue me
I got more gold than Shaka Zulu
You cannot sue me
I pay my lawyer, he a Jew-y
They try to chew me
That balling nigga tried to do me
Said I influence, the children listen to my music
I told 'em prove it
Told me some shit and I refuse it
I'm in the kitchen whippin'
You might think I'm barbecuin'
(whippin,' whippin')