Fat Trel rounds up his MMG labelmates Tracy T, Meek Mill and Rick Ross for this freestyle over Future‘s “Sh*t” single.
Shhh (Remix) Lyrics by Fat Trel ft. Tracy T, Meek Mill & Rick Ross
[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 [?]
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 dock you can have
Nigga come 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 bloods stay connected like direct
I'm in Miami my bitches like "where Lebron at?"
I finish fucking her [?] 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
Quit bullshittin' I'm a sell you where the bomb at
D.C. nigga, sittin wrist dip low
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 benny row
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 [?] and I'm a buy some Sprite
Tell a bitch keep counting till she get the count right
When a bitch finish might purchase her a flight
Might take a 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]
[?]
[Verse 2: Tracy T]
[?]
[Hook]
[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
Prolly make five bands for the waste 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]
[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 end my little war with the Regal
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 [?]
Now six figures for the set niggas verse
All eyes on me as I'm walking through the church
Prayin' lord forgive me, 30 shots in the semi
I done payed all of my ties now it's time to go and get it
My new plug don't fuck with the kuh
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
Fear 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 a Kilo
Till they end my little war with the Regal
Sippin' on purp niggas still got a plan
Still movin' work work nigga ooh what a night
Ooh what a night, ooh what a night
If it was a picture of that pussy it'd get 200 likes
Get 200 likes, all that bitch gettin' from me is 200 likes
[Hook]
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