Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Losing Composure, artist - Trae Tha Truth. Album song Losing Composure, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 06.11.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Maab Ent
Song language: English
Losing Composure |
I just can’t take, this shit no more |
I feel I’m losing my mind, but still I can’t let go The pain inside of my chest, about to make me blow |
So run inside of my range, and I’ll be forced to let go I can’t take it, I feel I’m losing composure |
My attitude done got me clicking, but fuck it cause I’m a soldier |
Lately I’ve been on that other shit, like a mad dude |
Stressing over my brother, living in penitentiary blues |
Never shed both tears, but I’m keeping a clip for them haters |
With any reason opening fire, on a bitch made traitor |
I’ve been falling off in my zone lately, and if one of these nigga |
Run up on me, then I’m letting em have it baby |
And it ain’t no if and maybe’s, so shady with the way they living |
If willing I’m drilling, dealing with bitches that got me sinning |
I’m trying to cope, but I feel like they really wanna bring it out me When how many niggas out here, say they down and I know they doubt me It’s fucked up, but I’ma pull a maneuver |
Bobbing and weaving, and run it to you |
Hard times, got me mentally ready to bring it to you |
Cause I’m young black and broke, with hopes of getting paid |
You better disperse, cause I feel like I wanna spray bitch |
You can’t assassinate my character, whispering words of war |
But I’m fed up with you son of a bitches, you’ve gone too far |
Making a mockery out of my name, ain’t cool |
So I’m straight to the horse’s mouth, me and my motherfucking tool |
I love nothing and slug something, every twenty minutes |
Fuck with me and the murder scene, just can’t be prevented |
I’m hell bound, will I be punished for thinking this way |
A problem child of reason, I’m smoking and drinking today |
Jokes of Douglas and Fraiser, we the niggas who made you |
Fuck us over, and can’t nobody save you |
I’m the truth, mark ass niggas get a loosing in they tooth |
Get murdered in the streets, the way to get murdered in the booth |
I’ll ride for my niggas, and I’ll die for my niggas |
It ain’t shit to let my 45, fly for my niggas |
Take a ride for my niggas, to the swamps and back |
So bear a witness, to the motherfucking pumps I pack bitch |
I can’t stand the pain, I can’t stand the rain |
Taking penitentiary chances, moving grams of caine |
I snatch your chain, run in your house and grab them thangs |
Hit the block like Ro and Trae, with them slabs of bang |
Stay on the grind, twenty-fo'sev' |
Don’t make me turn this 211, to a 1−8-7 one in your head |
Street sweeper, 2−2-3's to capitate your legs |
Break your legs, like Kujo to shake the FED’s |
I break bread with my goons, cause the streets gotta eat |
And if it ain’t no food on the streets, a dog show his teeth |
I’m a beast, fuck a freak go to sleep with my heat |
Creep stay on my feet, ain’t no mercy for the weak |
Fuck you geeks, I’m trying to stress this dope like yeast |
Fuck the police, I go to court smoking a sweet |
Talk shit, like 50 Cent I’ll put a hole in your cheek |
I roll deep with the Guerilla Maab, I’m down for the beef nigga |
Deep inside, I see they got a nigga spitting these verses |
I got to get, but still it seem like I was blessed with the curses |
And deep inside, I know nobody give a fuck about me So stay the fuck from round me, cause bitch you tend to bring it out me I heard some niggas looking for me, on the other side |
And if they come, I bet they run into a homicide |
Sending them slugs, and they won’t stop until they get inside |
Animosity in my chest, done got me spitting wide and I ain’t lying |
Friends turn into foes, and foes turn into memories |
No mask when I ride, to make sure a nigga remember me My name bring pain, to the soul of a busta |
Cause it’s more than a concussion, when I touch a motherfucker |
(forever Guerilla Maab), and it’s gon be for life |
And it be retaliation, then it’s gon be tonight |
I wish a nigga would, run up and be laying it down |
Locate his neighborhood, high ball and I’m spraying it down |