[Intro]
Every time, every time, hit 'em back to back
Hah, boom, hahahaha
Let's take 'em to the island
Hoodrich, bitch
Salute Me or Shoot Me Volume 6
I ain't seen 'em
Close the door, n***a
Prince Ink, Rico Cash
Hoodrich, bitch
(You ain't gang, you a lame
You ain't gang, you a lame)
We fronted that boy that pack
Damn, we ain't even seen him
It's been two weeks on that body
I heard they just ID'd him
In my neighborhood, it's killer season
N***a walk around clutchin' they heaters
Get that L off your chest if you need to
If I piece you up, n***a, I'ma eat you
Ayy, yo, Big Tiny, bring that shit back, n***a
Every time, every time, hit 'em back to back
Hah, boom, hahahaha (Brick Squad)
I ain't seen 'em (Trapaholics mixtapes)
Close the door, n***a
(You ain't gang, you a lame
You ain't gang, you a lame)
[Verse 1]
We fronted that boy that pack
Damn, we ain't even seen him
It's been two weeks on that body
I heard they just ID'd him
In my neighborhood, it's killer season
N***a walk around clutchin' they heaters
Get that L off your chest if you need to
If I piece you up, n***a, I'ma eat you
Put that on my mama, that Coretha
With them weapons, I swear that I'm lethal
Boy, that fire on me like a beeper
Got that silencer on me, I'll bleep 'em
Hmm, mute somethin' for you dumb n***as
I'll shoot somethin', look at run, n***a
Gun you down just for fun, n***a

[Chorus: Waka Flocka Flame]
Hundred rounds, n***a, shoot somethin', pussy
Sprayed your mama house, you ain't do nothin'
Hundred n***as with me and they all gunnin'
We the run down boys, n***a, we ain't runnin'

[Verse 2]
Pull up with n***as with heaters
My n***as stay hungry, we eat 'em
We straight out the jungle like zebras
And spot your ass up like a cheetah
I serve the bricks, fuck a feature
Still scraping dope out the beaker
Had a diamondback with no kickback
Walker ass, they ain't seen him
They gon' gun you down, n***a gon' hunt you down
You get money now, we get them hundreds now
I was trappin' back then and I'm trappin' now
Got this shit on your card, we gon' track you down
Pull up on your bitch ass with a hundred rounds
Make your bitch bring that sack, we don't fuck around
Put the silencer on it, don't make a sound
When I hit your bitch ass, it go bah-bah-bah
[Chorus: Waka Flocka Flame]
Hundred rounds, n***a, shoot somethin'
Sprayed your mama house, you ain't do nothin'
Hundred n***as with me and they all gunnin' (Hoodrich, bitch)
We the run down boys, n***a, we ain't runnin'

[Verse 3: Waka Flocka Flame]
35k for a thousand eight grams
55k if you wanna see me on stage goin' HAM
Trap money, bitch, rap money
I'ma mix it up and make more money
Trap money with the rap money
I'ma mix it up and make more money for my n***as
I'm gunning, I'm riding, I'm riding, I'm gunning
Running and ducking, I thought y'all was gangster
I will not serve you if you not a banger
I made a million with molly, I ain't talking drugs
Grew up on Grove where they're slanging iron
If you want a name, gotta spill blood, on Piru

[Chorus: Waka Flocka Flame]
Hundred rounds, n***a, shoot somethin'
Sprayed your mama house, you ain't do nothin'
Hundred n***as with me and they all gunnin'
We the run down boys, n***a, we ain't runnin'
[Outro]
Volume 6
We did this shit for the streets, for the hood
For them n***as behind them walls, n***a
Hoodrich, bitch
Real trap shit