Lyrics of '50K (feat. Trap Manny)' by Pop Smoke

(Traphouse Mob)
Woo
Woo, woo, woo
(Swirv)
Ha-ha-ha-ha (I'm 'bout to lose my fucking mind)
Grrt
Baow, woo

I don't got time for no minimum wage (Uh)
It's fifty K to go on stage (Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
Woo, woo, woo
I don't got time for no minimum wage
It's fifty K to go on stage
Woo, woo, woo

Look, I pop a perc' for dinner (Woo)
Sinner, winner
Pop Smoke drillin'
I'll do a drill in the Wraith
I'll go jump you with the apes
He gon' send shots where you lay
And I'mma pull up with the K (Brrt)
HK, SK
Trap Manny let it spray
I'm trying to put 'em in the grave (Sheesh)
Can't be workin' no minimum wage (Nah)
Bitch, Trap Manny is my name
It's gon' be a man down, and that's on the set
Glock 9, infrared
You better run when you see Dread
'Cause boy aimin' for your head
Know that we puttin' in pain
Aimin' for your (Baow)
Boy, aimin' for your brain
Know we do it for the gang (Woo)
HB, Flossy (Woo)
Catch a opp, do him like Cain
And I still got the Perc' for the yaks
Opps still runnin', like Ricky, ain't catch 'em yet
From the BK, back to the BX
Disrespect my nigga Pop Smoke, get a hole in your chest (Yeah)
And I'm opposition K (Sheesh)
EBK, EBK
Fry that nigga, fish fillet
I'm known for puttin' in pain
And spinnin' in the Wraith (Uh)
While I'm chillin' with your bae
You wifin' a thot, and I'm fuckin' her face
'Member when [?] and I was upstate
I was spinnin' the yard, always kept a blade
Nigga try me, he goin' end up running from pain
Yeah, I scammed you for nothing, still play in them banks (Ha-ha)
Trappin', scammin'
Bitch, it's Pop Smoke, Trap Manny
That big .38 on me ain't jammin'

If you ain't jacking Woo, then get out the way
If you ain't jacking HB, get out the way
If you ain't jacking Pop, then get out the way
If you ain't jacking Trap, then get out the way

Hit that boy up, then fly to LA
Woo, ayy, ayy
Know that we duckin' the jakes
And if you try to hide, we find where you stay (Woo)
Waitin' for you (Sheesh)

Pop out and get popped in the face
Pop will pull up .22, I tote big .38s (Yeah)
Aimin', blowin' (Yeah)
Six shots, it disfigured his face (Sheesh)
We goin' have his homies put his face on a chain (Yeah)
Bullets rainin', it's stormin' (Woo)
Trying to sound like thunder when it sprays
Lot of niggas tellin', gotta watch what I say
Huh, Raf Simmons, transformin', yeah
I'ma hit 'em up and then gon' fly to LA (Baow)