feat. Lil' B
[Trae]
Guerilla Maab in the trunk, when I'm whipping the boulevard
Rearrange the block when I swang and bang, I'm gripping grain
Banging Maan when the cd change, and leave stains till a motherfucker
Know my name I'm Lil' Trae, hey nigga what they say
The young gun fin to come, tipping up few quay, blue over gray
AK's on cock I don't play, on the grind full time to ball and parlay
I can flip my tongue, and make a nigga say whoa
If you really want plex, what it do here I go
Niggas don't no hoes, are coming up out of the Maab
Stepping out pimp stripes, laced up with a Dob hat
Grab a gat, nigga where the hatas at
Like that Mr. Fat Pat, we fin to rat-a-tat
To make a nigga blood back, you don't wanna see that
I'm fin to be breaking em off, when I click on wax
Cocking the glock dropping the top, and making em up out the box
And body rocking the lot, and leaving a nigga shot
When I step out, bitch niggas be on the run
Nigga come and get some, you don't really want none
I'm a thug nigga, fucking with me you fin to get sprayed
I'm screwed up and throwed off, and gone in the brain
Representing my click, to the fullest everyday all day
Stepping to us, fifteen coming your way
Shotgun blast, keep a nigga moving it fast
When I set it off, making a nigga feel like trash
Guerilla Maab competitors stand, and hitting yeah
And if a nigga don't know, I'm fin to be breaking yeah
Pretty licking yes a nigga, what you be talking about
I'ma ride for the South, till the house get burned down
Shut down, nigga be coming way too throwed
You know Guerilla Maab made niggas, out of control

[Chorus - 2x]
Everybody gon know, that my click gon set it off
Balling o