| So my nights usually start off lurking
|
| Shit
|
| I don’t usually eat no breakfast, no nothin'
|
| I just gather all the money I can and go straight to Jon Jon
|
| Shoot, sometimes I don’t even have enough money
|
| So I either beg him
|
| And if that don’t work, I go out and get it
|
| And once I finally get what I need, I go straight to the trap house
|
| I walk up the stairs
|
| And the second floor’s usually where I do my thing
|
| Ha ha, shit
|
| I find me a little spot in the corner
|
| Take a seat
|
| Grab the rocks, fill up the pipe
|
| And right before I strike the light, I start to think about life
|
| Like, what the hell am I doing?
|
| You know?
|
| This ain’t my life, this ain’t me
|
| I ain’t come from this kind of background
|
| Hm, but it’s like, every time I start to come to my senses
|
| I don’t know, I just
|
| I hear these voices
|
| (Na na na na na)
|
| And they start teasing me
|
| (Na na na na na)
|
| Then I come to the realization that these voices are my addiction
|
| (Na na na na na)
|
| He the trappa
|
| He the plug
|
| He the one sellin' dimes and the dubs
|
| She the one smoking dimes in the dorm room while the boyfriend showing white
|
| girl love
|
| He sniff, they shoot
|
| We pop, to get loose
|
| But we all do the things that we do cause if life ends now we ain’t got shit to
|
| lose
|
| Fuck that
|
| So we think think think think think
|
| That’s right that’s right that’s right that’s right
|
| Oh so we think think think think
|
| That’s right that’s right that’s right that’s right
|
| We are all the same
|
| From the projects and the streets to the campuses and the dorm rooms
|
| We all breathe and inhale from a mouth, of a nose, right?
|
| This breath of air brings us a false feeling of satisfaction
|
| Which makes us gasp as we failed to grasp reality
|
| This fake sense of security becomes our new addiction
|
| We are all the same
|
| From the Rocky Mountains to the Serengeti Plains
|
| We all seek the same strain
|
| Or relieve the same pain
|
| Because that’s how we think we remain sane
|
| But is that just satan talkin'?
|
| I mean
|
| Think about it
|
| The next time you try to judge your partner, make sure you think of your own
|
| problems
|
| After that try to solve em
|
| Because as the world continues revolvin'
|
| Playin' Russian roulette with our lives
|
| The only way that you could survive
|
| Is if you remember one thing
|
| We all the same
|
| He the trappa
|
| He the plug
|
| He the one sellin' dimes and the dubs
|
| She the one smoking dimes in the dorm room while the boyfriend showing white
|
| girl love
|
| He sniff, they shoot
|
| We pop, to get loose
|
| But we all do the things that we do cause if life ends now we ain’t got shit to
|
| lose
|
| Or so we think
|
| Or so we think
|
| Or so we think
|
| Or so or so or so or so or so whoa
|
| Subtrap |