lyrics
You ain't bout no murda
You ain't bout no killin,
Stand up for yourself brotha,
Go on raise your children
Got 2 cities all on my back
Got 2 50s all in my lap
Knock these snitches off of the map
Man I ain't buying all that...
You a King!
You aint a gangsta Or no hustler
You aint a pimp, man you my brother
And yo the sooner you discover..
showin love don't make u a sucka,
I was on world tours
While You was on world star
Marveling at how trifling these girls are
Spending your advance on a chain and a sports car,
Tryna get support in your city is like Dolly in a sports bra,
Used to change my D's into B's on my report card
Now I got a seat where the academy awards are
They say you like the johann of yo time
With yo grind you should be on in no time
Problem is I don't bite my tongue for no cosigns
Nigerian nightmare dragging folks to the goal line,
Christian Okoye, rippin through the foy-ye
Get it the raw way
Philly to broadway
If u don't work, then u don't eat
We put in work, yeah you know me
Times is hard, but we ain't stressin
Count ya money but count ya blessings
You ain't bout no murda
You ain't bout no killin,
Stand up for yourself brotha,
Go on raise your children
Got 2 cities all on my back
Got 2 50s all in my lap
Knock these snitches off of the map
Man I ain't buying all that...
You a King!
You aint a gangsta Or no hustler
You aint a pimp, man you my brother
And yo the sooner you discover..
showin love don't make u a sucka,
Brotha pull ya pants up,
Stand up like a man bruh,
I know times is hard sometimes
We struggle for an answer,
But this stuff is cancer, eatin at yo soul,
Now we fighting over materials
We ain't even got control,
Television is poison,
Radio is straight poison
Reality TV show ain't the only place of employment
While You think u enjoying
All they doin is destroyin
They ain't gotta kill us off fam,
we do the job for them,
All of my favorite rappers are hypocrites
So i guess it's expected that they should flip a
Put it on a beat you might recognize
Pushin buttons cuz most of y'all is mechanized,
They might cut u a check but they don't respect you guys>
Status Quo irrelevant, true artistry never dies
Bout to mash out, finally see a Lil fame
I hear no so much Im starting to think it's my middle name
will i blow, like winds in chicago,
I try to estimate but truthfully on god knows
Started catching fire, kept My rhymes cold,
Tryna feed an army with 2 fish and 5 loaves
Hands tied behind my back wearing 2 blindfolds
Tryna fly a kite with 2 bullet sized holes,
I'm after a legacy, not murcialoago
You would still wouldn't doubt me
If u knew what I know
You ain't bout no murda
You ain't bout no killin,
Stand up for yourself brotha,
Go on raise your children
Got 2 cities all on my back
Got 2 50s all in my lap
Knock these snitches off of the map
Man I ain't buying all that...
You a King!
You aint a gangsta Or no hustler
You aint a pimp, man you my brother
And yo the sooner you discover..
showin love don't make u a sucka,
credits
from
TRAP,
released June 16, 2013
Produced by Mr.ThrowedOnTheTrack. Mixed and Recorded by Andrew "The Ref" Johnson, Tempe, AZ.
license
all rights reserved