Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Trap Or Die 2, artist - Young Jeezy. Date of issue: 11.01.2011
Song language: English
Trap Or Die 2 |
| Last time I checked I was the man on these streets |
| They call me residue, I leave blow in these beats |
| Got down real flow, now I shit on niggaz |
| Even when I’m constipated I still shit on niggaz (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 |
| Yeaaaa, I’m an affiliate, I’m no hitman |
| Yeaaaa, I’m an affiliate, I’m no hitman |
| Yeaaaa, 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, dramatic nigga) |
| Now tell me I ain’t real, this AR that I’m holdin got a gangsta grill (that's |
| right) |
| Now tell me I ain’t real, this AR 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 down real flow, now I shit on niggaz |
| Even when I’m constipated I still shit on niggaz (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 |
| Yeaaaa, 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 AR that I’m holdin got a gangsta grill |
| Went from old school chevys |
| To beamer coupes |
| Got a 100 niggaz with me and everybody gon shoot (yeaaaa) |
| 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 (damnnn) |
| You still wanna talk flow man? |
| Soft white like a ??? |
| snowman |
| Smoke perp by the pound, ounce by the fifth |
| Free up on the first then again on the fifth (yeaaaa) |
| 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 (yeaaaa) |
| 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 niggaz 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 to ??? |
| and tell |
| You the hoax and niggaz 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 |
| UGK 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 perp by the pound, ounce by the fifth |
| Free up on the first then again on the fifth (yeaaaa) |
| 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 (yeaaaa) |
| 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 wanna feel that |
| Street addicts get a buzz from the hustlin |
| Fuck the government, we got our own, the Track-Publicans |
| Chillin pimp niggaz don’t know the first thing about the block |
| I’m 279 grams of straight drop out the pot |
| Real street niggaz, 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 niggaz, you know, spongebobs |
| Kanye West niggaz, talking through the wire dawg |
| Watch for goonies when you got it, niggaz wanna rob |
| And pull a staff and quarterback 'em like Brett Favre |
| Smoke perp by the pound, ounce by the fifth |
| Free up on the first then again on the fifth (yeaaaa) |
| 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 (yeaaaa) |
| We trap or die nigga, we trap or die nigga |