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Playboi Carti - Field Trip Original Lyrics

[Chorus: Don Toliver & Playboi Carti]
Got a bitch to ride or die
Ride it just like it's on my bike (Woah-woah)
Do this all to circulate (Doin', what?)
Fuck her just to circulate (Woah-ooh)
Do it just to circulate
Take her just to circulate (Woah-woah)
Call her just to circulate
Ride it just how I like my bike (Woah-woah)
Take her on a field trip
Take her out her house (Schyeah)
Take her on a trip (Schyeah)
Take her out her house

[Verse 1: Playboi Carti & Don Toliver]
Uh, I'm spittin' that venom
The baby not real, it's not in 'em
Send 'em a letter, I kill 'em
Close that boy door, we dismissed him
I done got too high, just a little
I know I'm out my mind just a little
Red Lambo' like Skittles
Double O-5, we criminal
I ain't buy the yacht, bought the missile
Tape on the gun, can't miss 'em
Tape on it, shake on it, shake on it
Uh, shawty keep fuckin' my bones
Movin' too fast, 'bout to break somethin'
Shawty keep hidin' my phone
Keep doin' that, I'ma break somethin'
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na, break somethin'
[Chorus: Don Toliver & Playboi Carti]
Got a bitch to ride or die
Ride it just like it's on my bike (Woah-woah)
Do this all to circulate (Hold up, doin' what?)
Fuck her just to circulate (Hold up, woah-ooh)
Do it just to circulate (Hold up)
Take her just to circulate (Hold up, woah-woah)
Call her just to circulate (Hold up)
Ride it just how I like my bike

[Verse 2: Lil Durk]
Got the cup, I'm a real pharmaceuticist
Popped a Perc' and I'm all in her uterus
I'm so nasty, I fucked on a voodoo bitch
Put my card on Chanel and go ludicrous
Eighteen years, got my liquor from cougar bitches
Eighteen years, got my— cougar
Uh, I took her to Booby Trap
In my section, she gettin' her booty clapped
Stand on couches, we turnt up, they know that
This the striker, she fuck me to 4Batz
She be tweakin', she ask for a Rolex
I got four killers with me, that's four 'Cats
Heard a rumor, they said I couldn't go back
I was there, this pic ain't no throwback
I don't care, I listen to Kodak
I don't care, I listen to Kodak
I don't care (Care)
[Verse 3: Kanye West]
Trappin', the cameras are [?]
[?]
Tell me you love me the [?]
Tell me you love me the mo'
Tell me you love me the mo'
Tell me you love me the mos'
Tell me you love me the mo'
Tell me you love me, we're Burberry hittin' the mall
This summer, we hittin' the mall
Position, we hittin' them all
On the Percs and we gettin' the mo'
All of my money gettin' the ta'
Somebody gettin' the ta'
Some of you gettin' the talk
Some of you get in the vault
I got the [?], it ain't my fault
Ain't my no—
It ain't my loss
It ain't my wrong
Knowing you [?]

[Chorus: Don Toliver & Ty Dolla $ign]
Got a bitch to ride a bike
Ride it just like it's on my bike (Woah—)
Got a bitch to ride a bike
Ride it just like it's on my bike (Woah-woah)
Do this all to circulate (Doin', what?)
Fuck her just to circulate (Woah-woo)
Do it just to circulate
Take her just to circulate (Woah-woah, uh-huh)
Take her on a field trip (Uh-huh)
Take her out her house (Schyeah, uh-huh)
Take her on a trip (Uh-huh)
Take her out her house
[Verse 4: Ty Dolla $ign]
Whippin' that Benz like a rental
Two hundred cash, my bitch say I'm mental (Mental)
Medical plans, I'm all in her dental (Dental)
Move like a dog, I'm fresh out the kennel (Kennel)
Niggas say, "Gas", they rollin' up fentanyl (Fentanyl)
I know some niggas still servin' like tennis
Twenty-five cash, they go get you finished
Wake up and spaz like Dennis the— (Uh)
You ain't outside, I wish it was different, uh-uh (Hey), uh-uh
You ain't outside, I wish it was different (Ooh), uh-uh, uh-uh—