Lyrics Trae – Try Me

Hook – Young Thug:
I got shooters if you try me, if you fucking try me
Pussy nigga try me, come on, fucking try me
I run Texas, bitches come and try me

Verse 1 – Trae Tha Truth:
I got shooters on the block nigga
Yea they somewhere on they bullshit
I got the city on standby
I green light they even coming out the pulpit
Yeah, Truth pull up in that white thing
Four choppas and the trunk full of white things
If it ain’t ten or better, I be out your price range
For the money, get shot like a dice game
When I finished to get to this bitch
Tell her I will not keep her, just give me some nice brains
I cannot lie, this bitch’s head is so stupid
Like who the fuck gave her this nice brain
Still the Truth nigga, remember that
I’m in this foreign, no ceiling, I done ?
that
I’m talking snow but I ain’t talking where December at
I’m in the kitchen where they whip it up and send it back
Flyer than birds, they get flown
I will not get off my throne
When it come to these streets I am king

Hook – Young Thug

Verse 2 – Young Thug:
Got shooters in the bando
They salute me like commando
Add a bitch to the payroll
And she know how to put grams in her A hole
Imma talk to you when the case closed
And before I let down Imma lay low
I pour lean in OJ, no Mayo
Imma drink that little bitch like Faygo
I’m in Mexico with my plug and them pesos by the caseloads
I’m in Dominican with my hoes doing everything I say so
Trae Tha Truth pulling up, whoo!
Keep that, nigga bitching like whoo!
Aw freak that, whole night I won’t tell
No one checked, that’s a secret
Your bitch waiting when a nigga ride by
She smelled the money on me, I can’t even disguise
I feel myself, so Texan don’t try
Po-po’s behind me, don’t text and drive
Crocodile aisle nigga, shoes look like a gator
Leave em with the balls while I keep it with the Pacers
Cooking with no hands, like I usually use a baker
I’m in that stomach like a naval

Hook