Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Trap Or Die, artist - Young Jeezy. Album song Let’s Get It: Thug Motivation 101, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 25.07.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: DEF JAM, Universal Music
Song language: English
Trap Or Die |
Last time I checked I was the man on these streets |
They call me residue, I leave blow in these beats |
Got diarrhea flow, now I shit on niggas |
Even when I’m constipated I still shit on niggas (let's get it on) |
Got some Super Friends in the Legion of Doom |
They blowin purple shit that keep me high like the moon |
Yea, I’m an affiliate, I’m no hit man |
Yea, I’m an affiliate, I’m no hit man |
Yea, I’m an affiliate, I’m no hit man |
I’m a hater like you, fuck my wristband |
Nigga sneak this, and that ain’t how we play |
Fuck with mind, get ya drama like the DJ (that's right, dramatic nigga) |
Now tell me I ain’t real, this are that I’m holdin got a gangsta grill (that's |
right) |
Now tell me I ain’t real, this are that I’m holdin got a gangsta grill |
Last time I checked I was the man on these streets |
They call me residue, I leave blow in these beats |
Got diarrhea flow, now I shit on niggas |
Even when I’m constipated I still shit on niggas (let's get it on) |
Got some Super Friends in the Legion of Doom |
They blowin' purple shit that keep me high like the moon |
Yea, I’m an affiliate, I’m no hitman |
I’m a hater like you, fuck my wristband |
Nigga sneak this, and that ain’t how we play |
Fuck with mind, get ya drama like the DJ (that's right) |
Now tell me I ain’t real, this are that I’m holdin' got a gangsta grill |
Went from old school Chevy’s |
To beamer coupes |
Got a 100 niggas with me and everybody gon shoot (yea) |
Try me nigga, that’s your first mistake |
Eat your lil' ass up like a chanterelle plate |
The whole pie like Dominoes, yes indeed |
I’m tryna stack my bacon up, I need extra cheese |
You can try dog, but it ain’t easy |
Mix the flake with the soul and carry Young Jeezy (damn) |
You still want to talk flow man? |
Soft white Alaska call me Snowman |
Smoke purp by the pound, ounce by the fifth |
Re-up on the first then again on the fifth (yea) |
We trap or die nigga, we trap or die nigga |
Ya know these hoes love a nigga cause they know that we the truth |
Got the Chevy same color Tropicana orange juice (yea) |
We trap or die nigga, we trap or die nigga) |
Yea, back up in the hood again, where it’s all good again |
Ridin' candy slab, grippin' on the wood again |
Outta line niggas get back in place where you shoulda been |
In case you don’t understand, we’ll make it understood again |
King of the underground, my gangsta will never fail |
You bout to make me go postal for fuckin' with my mail |
You got the connect, but you ain’t got the clientele |
You the hoax and niggas know it, that shit ain’t hard to tell |
Rat bitch, recognize that your cheese ain’t been to sales |
I’m fina break some bread with the feds, you dumb as hell |
I been around the block before, sold it all for rock to blow |
And I don’t fuck around, when the feds in town I got to go |
Respect my mind cause I’m a trill old schooler |
Summertime get too hot I wait for winter when its cooler |
U-G-K for life, free the pimp, you know the deal |
In PAT it’s Trap Or Die and we ain’t down for gettin killed |
Smoke purp by the pound, ounce by the fifth |
Re-up on the first then again on the fifth (yea) |
We trap or die nigga, we trap or die nigga |
Ya know these hoes love a nigga cause they know that we the truth |
Got the chevy same color Tropicana orange juice (yea) |
We trap or die nigga, we trap or die nigga |
We think like mathematicians, move like mobsters |
It’s bout to be a grizzly winter nigga straight monster (real nigga) |
I’m posted up with my big schlapps, big snakes, big straps |
You don’t want to feel that |
Street addicts get a buzz from the hustlin' |
Fuck the government, we got our own, the Track-Publicans |
Chillin' pimp niggas don’t know the first thing about the block |
I’m 279 grams of straight drop out the pot |
Real street niggas, all the ghetto hoes on our jock |
When I hit the strip, all my troops listen while I talk |
This what I tell em, «Take these yams lil' man |
Break it down, get back, see a couple grams» |
And don’t talk to square niggas, you know, Spongebobs |
Kanye West niggas, talking through the wire dog |
Watch for goonies when you got it, niggas want to rob |
And pull a staff and quarterback 'em like Brett Favre |
Smoke purp by the pound, ounce by the fifth |
Re-up on the first then again on the fifth (yea) |
We trap or die nigga, we trap or die nigga |
Ya know these hoes love a nigga cause they know that we the truth |
Got the Chevy same color Tropicana orange juice (yea) |
We trap or die nigga, we trap or die nigga |