Chris King feat. Trippie Redd, Mozzy & YG – Bool (Audio)

Lyrics to “Bool” performed by Chris King feat. Trippie Redd, Mozzy & YG

Hold up, ay, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Ay, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Yeah, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Uh, uh, you can’t bool with us, no-oh

Oil in the Fanta, double digits in the blammer
Blickys over jammers, b*tch I do that sh*t on camera
Cookie package when I’m landin’, in Atlanta smokin’ good
On the hood I came from nothin’, n*ggas blew up off a jugg
All my uncle ‘nem the plug, used to bag up fifty dubs
I’m addicted to these drugs, body itchin’ off the mud

I’m out here tweakin’ with my thugs, n*ggas kill you over crumbs
Grab the cherry handkerchief, my jit fillin’ up a drum
F*ck you talkin’ ’bout it, Mozzy get it poppin’ in these slums
Popular with these pistols, shotters pop you up for nothin’
Nookie hundreds I’m just thumbin’, multiplyin’ blue bundles
N*gga promise not to fumble, get money, remain humble

Hold up, ayy, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Ayy, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Yeah, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Uh, uh, you can’t bool with us, no-oh

I be f*ckin’ n*gga our way, I be grindin’, that’s a must
I be rollin’ blunts and boppin’ pists ’cause I do what I want
And I know your b*tch been on my line but I will not get front
And she know that I been gettin’ all of my sh*t from the jump
Ayy-oh-ayy-oh, take you out the hood like veggie

Make sure you roll my Backwoods fat baby
Always sippin’ on the lean, act good now ready
Smokin’ on the dope, that ayy-oh-ayy-oh
Hopin’ that a b*tch don’t get out of pocket
Before a young n*gga have to go and call up Rocket

He tell me mash on it, get to pimpin’ and poppin’
And f*ckin’ up the penthouse, we was runnin’ the lobby instead
Oh you n*ggas runnin’ out of your bread
Guillotine with these rapper’s ass, off with they head
Everybody wanna win for it but everybody act scared

Don’t be hittin’ up my line, do you f*ck with the feds
I be sippin’ on drink ’til I flatline
Fishscale, the Benz back tied
These old rappers sound mad tired
Her pussy wet, it get baptized, whoa

Hold up, snotty, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Ayy, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Yeah, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Uh, uh, you can’t bool with us, no-oh

You can’t bool with us, you ain’t bool enough
You ain’t movin’ nothin’, you ain’t shootin’ nothin’
You ain’t toolied up
B*tch I’m uchied up, my b*tch bougie as f*ck..
She only doin’ Uber Vista, XL Uber truck

JP fitted, be havin’ Bar Town to Lenox
My video shoots be like Pyru conventions
Can’t bool, ain’t no convincin’, you don’t know ’bout Missy’s Kitchen
N*ggas’ fingers wasn’t twisted, n*ggas’ pistols wasn’t whistlin’
Never dough, you wasn’t whippin’
You was scared, you kept b*tchin’

But now you want to bool to look bool, n*gga you trippin’
They see the diamonds glistin’, they know we f*ckin’ b*tches
They know we got the juice, whatever we say n*ggas gon’ listen
T’s, P’s, and B’s, oh my
Come clean, we slidin’ on God
Twenty on his head, n*gga why not
I’m the n*gga with the bag on 400 block

T’s, P’s, and B’s, oh my
Come clean, we slidin’ on God
Twenty on his head, n*gga why not
I’m the n*gga with the bag on 400 block

Hold up, snotty, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Ayy, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Yeah, you can’t bool with us, no-oh
Uh, uh, you can’t bool with us, no-oh…

➤ Produced by TraphouseRyan
Album: Leonardo Di’Trappio 2
YG & Mozzy Chris King & Trippie Redd 2018