Waka Flocka Flame - The Belt

(Trapaholics, real trap shit) Belt to your ass like a baby, lil' bitch This shit on the flow, don't you play with me, bitch They sayin' boo like they bangin' this shit When your big homie get the G-checkin' shit I'm really that nigga, put respect on this shit The spark be dismissin', he missin' you nigga Be payin' the bangers and hangin' 'round the bling On my double up, I bought that bitch a lil' pin I'm a double O, you know how this shit gon' end (real trap shit) Put you on a plate, get you ate by your friends Your favorite rapper, I raise them Your favorite trapper, I raise them What the fuck I look like hangin' 'round him? What the fuck I look like claimin' that? Y'all niggas make excuses for rats How you in your hood with security? That shit just don't make sense to me .223s 'bout to fix in the trees I'm always off these trees like falling leaves These niggas P, just stand for peace They bitches take the stamp for me I advancing all my beef, I treat them all like they police It's gon' take ten of y'all pussies just to make one of me Still use my hands and feet, still whippin' shit to sleep Still bustin' bottles in the club, Brick Squad surrounding me Like I'm livin' in heaven league I pray these niggas don't play with me Belt to your ass like a baby, lil' bitch This shit on the flow, don't you play with me, bitch They sayin' boo like they bangin' this shit When your big homie get the G-checkin' shit I'm really that nigga, put respect on this shit The spark be dismissin', he missin' you, nigga Be payin' the bangers and hangin' 'round the bling On my double up, I bought that bitch a lil' pin I'm a double O, you know how this shit gon' end Put you on a plate, get you ate by your friends Your favorite rapper, I raise them Your favorite trapper, I raise them What the fuck I look like hangin' 'round him? What the fuck I look like claimin' that? Y'all niggas make excuses for rats Old lame-ass niggas still bangin' on Westwood Man as my niggas ain't hangin' in traps Yelling Brick squad everywhere, I'm mad that they took that shit Didn't get nothin' back but bullets with the tens In all these plaques, built in the gap but the hood on the map Show them insurance in trust so they don't get tapped Put respect on my name, y'all owe me that I'm one of ones for real that made it out Nigga, let's toast to that Nigga, fuck your dead eye, pints on they grave Spit in your face, ain't no holdin' back Beat your ass, stomp you out for poppin' shit, hope your lungs collapse Pray to God the DJ stop the music Crowd like, hold up, Trevor Belt to your ass like a baby, lil' bitch This shit on the flow, don't you play with me, bitch They sayin' boo like they bangin' this shit When your big homie get the G-checkin' shit I'm really that nigga, put respect on this shit The spark be dismissin', he missin' you, nigga Be payin' the bangers and hangin' 'round the bling On my double up, I bought that bitch a lil' pin I'm a double O, you know how this shit gon' end Put you on a plate, get you ate by your friends No favorite rapper, I raise them No favorite trapper, I raise them What the fuck I look like hangin' 'round him? What the fuck I look like claimin' that? Y'all niggas make excuses for rats Shout-out to the whole motherfuckin' 808 Shout-out to the whole Boomnati Shout-out to the motherfuckin' Craydummies Shout-out to the motherfuckin' Eardrummers Sunny, I see you Spence, I see you Shout-out to the whole motherfuckin' Atlanta, nigga Every goddamn DJ in the city Every promoter in the motherfuckin' city