Trophy Kid Lyrics

Aye, hmm, bitch, it's the 4 in here

Walking in the party, strictly gang, you know it's poles in here

A trophy in the city, niggas treat me like a souvenir

Houdini, I could send a cash app and make you disappear

Like, have you ever hit a lick and split it with your peers

Have you ever blew the strap and ended a career

I don't rap what I don't really do, lil' bitch, I live it clear

A general, I'm top rank, you niggas on that bottom tier

We are, huh, not the same, nigga

Got it off the muscle, still trapping in the rain, nigga

All my brothers gone, I'm gon' make you feel my pain, nigga

I'm with the same team, you won't catch me on no lane switching

Lame niggas watching' and hating, they sending death threats

This nigga wanna kill me, cause his bitch gave up the neck neck

Tell em' play it close, cause you won't see me getting stretched yet

Your best bet, unleash the whole clip out yo' damn tech

Poured off a four and keep a K, that's why I'm K4

Fuck rats, nigga, you won't catch me with no rainbows

My bitch my only homie, cause these niggas really snakes, though

I went to court and beat that lil' shit, that shit was luck bro

She hate it when I beat the doonies down, she like it slow-mo

And ever since my last bitch, I got no love for a hoe

Ever since them last niggas, I got no love for the bros

Ever since I passed, I never really stopped touching dough

I'm a Compton nigga, baby, can't no nigga do it like me

It's ten in the day, still catch me in some Nikes

A white tees, some sweats, this bitch still wanna be wifey

Most likely, he envy and I know that he despise me

Bad lil' white bitch, bought her a ghost stick

A light-skinned, Puerto Rican bitch, she love to ride the dick

She thick as shit, I made her hit the splits and beat them coochie lips

Gotta fuck her off a yerk ten, she hate that nuttin' quick

(Aye) Left cheek, right cheek, I see you shaking it

Bring that lil' ass over here so I can wang it bitch

The way she moving ass, shit, I know she want it in her ribs

Let's hit the back, shit, I know you wanna have my kids

Take them clothes off, girl, I know you tryna suck this dick

Damn, you real freaky, bitch

Back to the party, heard they trippin', who need it quick

It's 2023, no fair fades, you meeting the stick

It's nothin' less than fifteen, I gotta have a thirty clip

Strictly shit talking on the beat, I'm not a lyricist

Occasionally, I like to pop out on my designer tip

Givenchy hoodie with the Palm Angels, on some fly shit

Fuck, let's turn around, I can't forget the Prada kicks

Alright, yeah, and fuck the politics

I don't gang bang, but getting chip and yeah, a lot of it

On KOP I'm trophied up, up in my city, but you know that shit