Happy Halloween 2 Songtext
von CEO Trayle

Say they want that old Four
For what tho
That′s a crazy low down dirty cut throat


Gun smoke mixed up with blunt smoke
Scarface had to go
Alejandro
Scarred face
Tats on his throat
That's just how you know
Bullets hit me but I stand ten toes
That′s just how it go
Nigga load the 50
Keep the score and pay attention to the road
Soon as he come out his front door
Let off that mother load
Nigga saying sum to Big Backdoor
He must be fuckin bold
This nigga said he wasn't gone kick that door
And then he fuckin told
You in the comments
You think I'm getting trolled
Aye watch out for patrol
Winked at baby bruh he scored
I put the plays together
Call me Big Bachdoor the coach
She got a Birkin purse
I upgrade that hoe from Coach
She on a private jet
I upgrade that hoe from coach
They study
Wanna be Backdoor C4 they taking notes
You ugly
Just start getting hoes never fucked her before
Mr Four I up and blow
Switch my zip and area code
Crocodile among the sheep
I creep I keep it low
Some of these nights I can′t even sleep
I swear I miss my bro
I was just dancing with the devil
I stepped on his toes
And then cancer killed my cousin
Grab the shovel dig a hole
Grab your coat it′s getting cold
Or you gone freeze nigga
Bitch I probably came with ya
But I ain't gone leave with ya
Never leave my brothers
Ten Eight Zero
Slime Shady nigga
Keep a Glock in reach nigga
That′s a Georgia peach nigga
I backdoor these big houses ion sneak in em
Tom Ford shirts
Just to go grim reap in em
This is Mike Amiri
Not no cheap denim
Bitch I don't want no steak
Give me chicken tenders
And give Lil Four chicken tender′s
Bitch we grew up chicken dinners
Run shit like Mr Skinner
Can't wait to Mr Burns a nigga
All you gotta do is be patient wait ya turn nigga
Keep working
Go out kill what you eat
Rule number one
Don′t ever let these niggas play you weak
Rule number two
Bitch better listen way more than you speak
Rule number three
Can't trust a bitch that pussy make you weak
Rule number five
Try to stay alive and make it out the street
Forgot rule number four don't ever fuck with me
You must think I ain′t have my pole
I tucked it in my jeans
Rubber gloves and sketchers on a mission
Bet I make it clean
Spark plug
Buss a window
Then get in go up the street
Ever seen a bullet tear through flesh
Or through a piece of meat
That′s my way to wish you Happy Halloween