Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Trap Door, artist - Jake One. Album song White Van Music, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 06.10.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhymesayers Entertainment
Song language: English
Trap Door |
He moves the crowd like a cursor on zoom |
No curse words, DOOM the worst church nerd verse heard |
Appeared blurred to a million true believers |
He’s the supervillain arm dealer to the divas |
Catch, amongst other world scandals |
Butter pearl handles to match your girl’s sandals |
Plan was hatched by a pack of old vandals |
Whose flag was a black and gold patch with bloody anvils |
«Hit 'Em to the Head» was the motto |
And one more time to make sure them dead, BLAKKO |
When you throw blows in a knife fight, Paco |
That’s how it goes in this Modern Life like Rocko |
Clock dough 24−7 cycle |
When it comes to flows he got more than a mic full |
Pull a broad like a dyke bull on a long bid |
You’re messin with the wrong kids Michael |
… it ain’t Jack-son |
For him to flip scripts like camera, action |
Villain! |
Raw by the laws of attraction |
For future generation’s information — the black one |
… Move the crowd like a buddha cloud |
The purple, puff puff pass 'round the circle |
A jerk well renowned for his work skill |
He’s out, the proof is the computer’s down Urkel |
MC a show via wi-fi |
And paid way before we wrap it up like tie-dye |
Hip-Hop sci-fi you can see |
He had the eye of the tiger through the mask like the Fry Guy |
Just made a baby Olmec dome check |
Left some folks' ancestors home wreck |
With blown backs these lesser known facts thwart evil |
It got no reason, like short people |
No offense, his feet was burnt brass |
Whenever he walked on the street it turned glass |
On his lucky rat’s paw in the crap drawer |
All the world’s a stage, where’s the trap door, slackjaw |
Logic, to keep your mind in the project |
Drop the check, his job is to chop necks |
That’s just payback for noses there’s no psych though |
What they don’t know like Bo |
Won’t hurt Diddley squat |
Got to be kiddin me, not |
Seriously plot, to put a hit out on a G-spot |
Gypped like Egypt out their kettles and they teapot |