| In the trap back at it, all I know is mathematics
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| Keep that clean fish scale, chickens bust up out the wrapper
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| 2008, Juiceman turned into a rapper
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| Coming down the road with them bricks in a camper
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| Flying down the Crest, bricks in my daughter Pamper
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| Zone 6 nigga right here in East Atlanta
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| Keep them Hefty bags, nigga you can call me Santa
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| Small fry nigga, you’ll never be on my level
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| Hater get on my level, bricks come in on schedule
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| Dancing with the devil ever since I was in Pampers
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| Georgia Baptist born but I was raised in East Atlanta
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| Zone 6 nigga still trapping with them blammers
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| Out here serving Dirty Diana, got keys just like pianos
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| In the kitchen cooking Hannah, make a hater turn the channel
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| Mississippi mud but my name not David Banner
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| In it for a bag, you can keep the fame and glamour
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| Run bricks like Deon Saunders
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| My name they wanna slander
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| 32 ENT and the feds wanna ban us
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| Born in the trap but they just don’t understand us
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| Grew up with the boys but half of 'em jealous
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| In the trap back at it, all I know is mathematics
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| Keep that clean fish scale, chickens bust up out the wrapper
|
| 2008, Juiceman turned into a rapper
|
| Coming down the road with them bricks in a camper
|
| Flying down the Crest, bricks in my daughter Pamper
|
| Zone 6 nigga right here in East Atlanta
|
| Keep them Hefty bags, nigga you can call me Santa
|
| Small fry nigga, you’ll never be on my level
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| Swim team wrist when I’m cooking fish
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| Catch me in the kitchen, nigga I can serve a dish
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| Plug throw the rock, Chris Paul, I assist
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| Slam like Blake, damn near broke my wrist
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| Posted in the trap, in the yard is some fish
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| Say I got it from rap, nah nigga, it was bricks
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| 'Cause the J’s love the rocks and the niggas love to sniff
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| Smoking up the gas, we call it piff
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| Feeling like Tony, got my name on a blimp
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| Shout out to Memphis, got Young Juiceman feel like pimps
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| Caught me slipping once, got Young Juiceman with a limp
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| Hundred rack donk, 20 bands for the rims
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| In the trap back at it, all I know is mathematics
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| Keep that clean fish scale, chickens bust up out the wrapper
|
| 2008, Juiceman turned into a rapper
|
| Coming down the road with them bricks in a camper
|
| Flying down the Crest, bricks in my daughter Pamper
|
| Zone 6 nigga right here in East Atlanta
|
| Keep them Hefty bags, nigga you can call me Santa
|
| Small fry nigga, you’ll never be on my level
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| Shouts out to my baby Chloe
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| Yeah, that’s my homie
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| Nigga, run up on we
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| His family be lonely
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| I’ma act a donkey
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| Banana with the monkey
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| In a stolen car but I’m riding with a junkie
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| Mask on like a hockey with some military functions
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| Going out 'bout mine, I ain’t dying bout no fuck shit
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| Grab the sniper and say fuck it
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| Go and steal a bucket
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| Then, ending all that fuck shit
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| These choppas, you can’t duck it
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| You better not try to truck it
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| You ain’t Usain Bolt so you better not buck it
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| I’ma keep it real, I’m that nigga not to fuck wit
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| Treat your head like a brick, boy you 'bout to get it busted
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| In the trap back at it, all I know is mathematics
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| Keep that clean fish scale, chickens bust up out the wrapper
|
| 2008, Juiceman turned into a rapper
|
| Coming down the road with them bricks in a camper
|
| Flying down the Crest, bricks in my daughter Pamper
|
| Zone 6 nigga right here in East Atlanta
|
| Keep them Hefty bags, nigga you can call me Santa
|
| Small fry nigga, you’ll never be on my level |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mathematics , by - OJ Da Juiceman. Song from the album The Otis Williams Jr Story, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп