P3 ft. Dawg Its Dom Lyrics

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust these hoes

I don't trust

Yeah, this industry in shambles

Thanos dust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust these hoes

I don't trust

This music ain't the same

I'mma do what I must

Why these bitches praying on my downfall

Too many haters in my mentions

It's an all out war

They growing eager and impatient

What's the response

I don't got all of the answers

Ain't no magic eight ball, yuh

Sit back

Watch me run these laps on this fucking track

I ain't got all of the equipment, but I still know how to rap

Matter of fact

Man, it's how you handle whats been given to you

This industry's a joke

Watch me prove it to you

They done killed this hard shit

Now I'm finna bring it back

I'm just trying to make a couple stacks

Make it out the trap

Put some cheese up on my plate

Charcuterie

It's time to school these motherfuckers

Take them back to tutoring

I started talking bout my depression

Writing down my obsessions

Letting out my thoughts and confessions

Nobody hearing the message

Too busy giving attention

To whack ass rappers that mention

"Oh I'm a gangsta, I'm a G"

Shut the fuck up

Class is in session

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust these hoes

I don't trust

Yeah, this industry in shambles

Thanos dust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust, I don't trust

I don't trust these hoes

I don't trust

This music ain't the same

I'mma do what I must

I don't trust, I don't trust

Shit, none of these niggas

Beat the fuck up out your frame if you don't get the picture

Stacking bucks is a must

I'm bout to stunt on these niggas

Roll a hater in a Dutch

Cuz we don't smoke on Swishers

Throwed in the game

Fuck a lame

Corle got the juice like a pitcher

I'm the one, not the two, dude

No Derek Fisher

Can't fuck with your partner either

I knew he was rolling with you

They quick to turn and kick ya back in

Lil boy on bishop

Back to the juice

I'm off the leash, I'm gettin' loose

Fuck with the clique, you losing a tooth

I'm throwing these mits

Big Baby Ruth

I was depressed, stressed, full of regret

Had to hit that button and reset

I know I'mma get the last laugh

Real rap, no flip flop

Revenge is on my mind

I feel like Oswald Cobblepot

I'm bout to teach em' a lesson

Foot on they neck, doggie still pressing

French, Italian, ranch

That's how I'm dressing

(Lets go)

(Ya nigga know I keep that motherfucking shit on)

(I keep a motherfucking fit on)

(A doggie mean so I keep that grit on)

(Type shit, I just be talking)

(Man, fuck these niggas, you already know what's going on)

(Out out out)