Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Train Trussle, artist - U-God. Album song Bring Back God II, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 04.02.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Train Trussle |
| I’m the best ever, I’m the most brutal and vicious |
| And most ruthless champion there’s ever been |
| There’s no one can stop me, there’s never been nobody who could --- |
| I’m Sonny Liston, I’m Jack Dempsey, there’s no one like me |
| I’m from their cloth, there’s no one who can match me |
| Praise be to Allah! |
| Just jewels, no crew heavy, my inside pants lay |
| Come packing like two machetes, one ratchet |
| Two clubs and a mask, jumping out a green rover |
| Niggas balling me down, that’s when I reached over |
| Figured they ain’t got no manners, young boys round here |
| They don’t know my status |
| See niggas looking for a full time jack move |
| But they don’t know, that these blades here crack dudes |
| Give it to them quick, something like fast food |
| Take a nigga gun like, you gon' blast who? |
| Cinderella girl, fronting in them glass shoes |
| Homo thug, bitch ass nigga, I smash you |
| You mad, 'cause you rocking a shit bag, smelling like piss |
| When it popped, ya click ran, you fucking with powerful men |
| Come value your business, it ain’t all gravy |
| You pussy niggas, you’se the Avon lady, fuck you |
| We scuffle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle |
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle |
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle |
| Stay on your side, or get your life bubbled |
| (We tussle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle |
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle |
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle |
| Stay on your side, or get your wig knuckled) |
| Yo, I hit 'em up with the snubs, puff the bigger buds |
| So sinister, a John Dillinger, yeah, I’ve been a thug |
| Fire all cylinders, swing with gritty love |
| Smooth talk, watch a moonwalk up in the club |
| I’m like Michael Jackson without the glitter glove |
| Go get it for sure, that’s right, a jitterbug |
| A minister of death, came back to finish ya |
| At the tip of the missile, a fish, you been a scud |
| That’s right, it’s in my blood, damn, what’s in them drugs |
| They make you spit slugs, leave marks in the floor |
| Yo, I stomp through the yard, I march through the hall |
| Charles Bronson them hard, Jack Johnson your jaw |
| If I sell out, yo, I’m copping some more |
| Get the hell out, or I’m popping the four |
| Shell pour out, big boxes of bullets |
| Your snotbox is bust, when I cock to the fullest |
| We scuffle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle |
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle |
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle |
| Stay on your side, or get your life bubbled |
| (We tussle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle |
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle |
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle |
| Stay on your side, or get your wig knuckled) |
| Consider me pissed off |
| Them swiners better throw in they hog trough |
| 'Fore I blast the hot shot of Smirnoff |
| Rhymes contrast to an airplane crash |
| I precede the aftermath of an acid bath |
| Take a leap from the Hyatt, and walk home bloody from a riot |
| And still stay chubby on a diet |
| Chicken in Michigan, get ya head crushed with a Michelin |
| It’s obvious, the God ain’t settling |
| Reputation and ego, buried in ghetto cathedrals |
| Blow the Ruger, brothers wanna through rubbles |
| Rock fight avalanches and ambushing |
| Contaminated bitches, dirty dishes and dope pushes |
| I dreamt plus I get a rush from a toilet flush |
| It wasn’t us, it was Paul and his brother |
| Uncle and four cousins, they had to die like the Dirty Dozen |
| I guzzle punks like 22's |
| Embezzle words and verbs, and interval avenues |
| It’s important to be caution, click of this magnitude is remorseless |
| We eat the fucking cake without the frosting |
| Contents contained, shackles his splattered brain |
| Ever since Killah Priest was ordained |
| I’m bringing back the revelry, I had with Beverly |
| And half of you corn niggas is greener than celery |
| Fuck outta here |
| We scuffle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle |
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle |
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle |
| Stay on your side, or get your life bubbled |
| (We tussle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle |
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle |
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle |
| Stay on your side, or get your wig knuckled) |
| My style is impetuous, my defense is impregnable |
| And I’m just ferocious, I want your heart |
| Praise be to Allah! |