Trap Dickey & Key Glock Down South Lyrics

[Intro: Trap Dickey]
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Trap

[Verse 1: Trap Dickey]
Down South nigga gettin' money and you know that (Boom)
Project baby, takin' pictures like I'm Kodak (Trap)
In the trap house with the guys where your ho at
Treat her like a memory, nickname Throwback (Boom)
Reppin' on a hood that you know you can't go back (Boom)
Niggas start singin' with a mask like 4Batz (Trap)
That side, I be where the Bloods and the Locs at (Gang)
Westside, I be where the cuhs and the folks at (Boom)
Quote that, niggas really actin' like they on that
Bitch, I'm from the Ville, niggas steal rims with no jack (Trap)
Niggas shootin' hollows like they really know Jack
Crosstracks, Lincoln Ave, niggas throwin' fours at (Gang)
Throw a touchdown or hand it off like a quarterback
Two hundred on a fresh load, you can order that
Man with a tote bag, nigga, that's a fanny pack
Bad bitch, a hundred racks, nigga, you can't handle that (Trap)

[Chorus: Trap Dickey & Key Glock]
Left foot, right foot, nigga, how you want that? (Boom)
Crosstracks my hood, nigga, how you talk that? (Trap)
Light skin bad bitch, fat ass, pop that
Niggas hatin' on the wrong hitter, need to stop that (Boom)
Left foot, right foot, nigga, how you want that? (Trap)
Crosstracks my hood, nigga, how you talk that? (Gang) Light skin bad bitch, fat ass, pop that (Phew)
Niggas hatin' on the wrong hitter, need to stop that (Uh, boom)

[Verse 2: Key Glock]
Two-door double-R (Skrrt), shit, I had to cop that (Yeah)
The top drop back just like Cam Ward (Yeah)
Brodie on that bullshit like he from Illinois (Yeah)
Pockets full of dead guys, this shit look like the morgue (Yeah)
This shit on the floor, nigga, I'm up (Up)
You know they call me Glock, get a bang for your buck (Fah)
And I ain't finna squabble, I'll light your ass up (Baow)
Nigga say they gettin' money, but it can't be much (Nah, the f*ck?)
No matter what, I keep it on me (Ha)
Brodie put shit to sleep, melatonin (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
The Real Deal Holyfield, niggas phony (Yeah)
If I'm in the driver's seat, then I own it (What? Glizzock)

[Chorus: Trap Dickey]
Left foot, right foot, nigga, how you want that? (Boom)
Crosstracks my hood, nigga, how you talk that? (Trap)
Light skin bad bitch, fat ass, pop that
Niggas hatin' on the wrong hitter, need to stop that (Boom)
Left foot, right foot, nigga, how you want that? (Trap)
Crosstracks my hood, nigga, how you talk that? (Gang)
Light skin bad bitch, fat ass, pop that
Niggas hatin' on the wrong hitter, need to stop that (Boom)