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• Artiste: Joey Trap
• Titre: Toofake
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Ha, ha Tooth ache, Jolly Rancher Ha Okay, be for real Tooth ache, Jolly Rancher I been sippin' on that Codeine, lean, it is the answer Smokin' out the pound for real, I hope I don't get cancer I just got my bitch a surgery, yes, I'm gon' enhance her Okay, be for real Too ahead, you couldn't match up I should change my name to Mustard 'cause you couldn't catch up I just threw my pound of runtz I rolled up in the Benz truck Y'all ain't shooters, y'all be writin', nigga, put them pens up Okay, be for real I don't write, I hit the booth and let a nigga spit sauce She a college student, but her head dumb Everything is red, my opps is dead, I'm seein' redrum Nigga, if I call my shooters then the feds come Yo', they did a sweep last week Hit the toilet then we flush it, then we puttin' down the seat, no Shorty is a freak, I let her be her I be in the trap, I got my feet up Baby, what's the deal, I'm tryna eat, yeah Baby, what's the deal, I'm tryna eat, yeah Okay, 2 a.m., I was up while you was sleepin' Okay, Codeine, we gon' fill up, 'bout to pull up to the deep end How your diamonds shinin', bitch, they playin' hide and seek, yeah Diamond tester, get excited to see my diamonds beep, yeah For real, tooth ache, Jolly Rancher I been sippin' on that Codeine, lean, it is the answer Smokin' out the pound for real, I hope I don't get cancer I just got my bitch a surgery, yes, I'm gon' enhance her Okay, be for real Too ahead, you couldn't match up I should change my name to Mustard 'cause you couldn't catch up I just threw my pound of runtz I rolled up in the Benz truck Y'all ain't shooters, y'all be writin', nigga, put them pens up Okay, be for real Tooth ache from the damn cup I told shorty that my tooth ache, she said it's bad luck Even though the shit give me a tooth ache, still gon' pour up And the shit was sweet, I got a tooth ache, still more cups Okay, be for real That might be a habit, boy, my habit gettin' bread, though Okay, I might have a habit, boy, my habit gettin' bread, though Plus I got a habit sippin' red four More Jolly Ranchers in my cup because I said so Go ahead, ho, we in the bed, stroke I got Percocet's, but you got CVS clothes We gettin' Xans out from Mexico for them pesos I want all the Xans, but not gon' pay them Tooth ache, boy, my stomach geeked out Be for real, be for real