Trae Tha Truth - Reckless lyrics

rate me

We ain’t burning, liquor pour, bitches calling me daddy

I’m a thug, 357 straight out the caddy

New York about my shoe, just flew in from…

A hood bitch, slimmy but her ass is fatty

I’m hot right now, my balls got a tin top on

I’m a movie and you missing some fresh popcorn

Levi’s…with a fresh clock on

Reasonable doubt, I was young getting my rocks on

Now I’m out in Texas, you traitor

Or either back home in the studio with Styles and Jada

Life’s a gamble, cards is dealt

I put the medal in your bitch, face like…motherfucker

Fuck your mother if her son is a bitch

Fly from the barrel, one in the head, 16 in the clip

D block niggas steaming the spliff

Promethazine, gun, lean, and a whip

I expect you to not fuck with me

All the shooters, they throw it up for me

This life’s murdering luxury

Talking to the gun in the car like it’s my company

12 rounds, no boxing, no glove

From the hood, no option, no love

Gangsters don’t die, mobsters don’t buzz

When niggas do time niggas draw blood

Feel me

King, I’m on this hustle like I’m searching for keys

I’m on this block in position to whip a whole nigga’s ass

Damn right, I got a fucked up thinker

Run your mouth pertaining Trae

I'm dropping 4 in your blinkers

One in your stinker

Over stand up till I’m jamming my finger

I hit the spot and shake it down

And have it big like singers

I let this choppers go decrepit till it sound like arenas

Back up with 745s like I was shooting with beamers

Black twin, thick as hell, call…

30 niggas, about that business like he fresh out the cleaners

My nigga say he wanna work I ship him off with the pay

Get on my set, whipping the bet

Our city in black, they fresh out the shack

Smelling like crack, get a moustache…pussy nigga

Trip with me, nigga, I barely react

It ain’t gonna be no nine lives, know that, cat for real

Black strap, black ski mask, black flannel, standard

The rules of life but not manual

Go ahead, keep waiting for America to tan you

Discussing your life over shots of Jack Daniels

I-95, got to working in back panels

50/50, a slim chance, a fat gamble

Some niggas like to stay in the pocket, some scramble

Go through the progression, hit the target, blame you

Light something up with a freak and watch Scandal

They can’t even get on they feet but can’t stand you

Believe every chance they get they remand you

Allah would never give you nothing you can’t handle