Man, bullethead.
Y’all know bullethead got me out here on the east side.
A spot called Trap Wing. But I like the menu.
Everything is a bird, half a bird,
quarter brick, Griselda Blanco.
The block is hot. All that kind of fly shit, right?
All that kind of talk. And we waited for a minute.
And it’s the hood, but not the hood like I’m used to.
It’s the hood like motherfuckers on meth.
I’m not used to that. I’m in East Coast.
We sell crack. Crazy.
This shit is fucking fire.
God damn it! Son of a bitch! The block is hot.
God damn! I’m keeping it so real,
cause you know I’m angry in real life.
Hot honey and lemon pepper.
Rick Ross somewhere out of breath. Come on,
Ross want this flavor.
You can’t get Rick Ross mad as hell right now.
They out. They out
trapping them in the fucking desert in Nevada. The setup.
Y’all know I’m bougie.
You in Vegas and you like to come to the trenches.
There’s a lot of hype around trap wings.
They sell out quick, but I understand the hype.
This shit is fire. When you in Vegas,
tap in with trap wings. You heard