lirik lagu deddreamer - still trappin’ (remix - solo version)
[verse]
feidorei, motherf~ckers h0m~, that b~tch be fruity, yo
simba, b~tch, like a mane, i just might cop some gucci, yo
if that b~tch playin’ hard to get, then you f~ckin’ a moody ho
yes, i’m mike, but you can’t spit for sh~t, mics in the studio
i left that b~tch on seen, on my life, i shouldn’t sing on
that lil’ b~tch said, “you was my shoulder to lean on”
you don’t got no k’s or m’s, take this l, yes, we won
snitches die, he gone, yeah, r.i.p. to king von
b~tches yellin’ in the booth like they turn on they caps lock
different color chains like m&m’s, not talkin’ rap god
shoot my shot like curry, but we ballin’ on the blacktop
yes, i’ma f~ckin’ chief, but i’m not talkin’ slap shot
yes, my b~tch flash me, but i’m not talkin’ a snapshot
she shake her ass, no earthquake, what them ground gaps cause?
how you crash at mine, like jae, no cars, what the crash cause?
ice cold bricks, but i’m not talkin’ a stack bond
if i got you in my trap, but b~tch, you still not trappin’
she choke on me, with practice, my b~tch no longer gaggin’
if i offend you motherf~ckers, y’all will start attackin’
purple like the codeine, but your life be collapsin’
every night she askin’, “daddy, won’t you tap in?”
she say i’m packin’, b~tch, i caught you lackin’
yes, that cake i’m grabbin’, that p~ssy i be smashin’
like plastic, unwrappin’, catch z’s, you nappin’, lil’ b~tch
uh, countin’ bands, but you ain’t really ‘bout that, lil’ b~tch!
makin’ bets, casino, you ain’t know my lingo, yeah
i bust clips in yo’ homies, funny, they don’t even know me
f~ckin’ sick of dudes in my lane, but they just some f~ckin’ phonies
mikey on the mic, b, strap go down to my right knee
sight see, they watchin’ us, but they know me lightly
i know that gucci bag is pricey, i’m about that bag precisely
is this an ak on me? it might be, ayy
the moment these p~ssies abouta get flamed, they start with the cap like a name
they tears dropping like rain, but what in the f~ck do they gain?
well, i’m comin’ back with a laugh, like a clown, but these clowns ain’t never been the same like drake
my b~tch got cake, pedal to the f~ckin’ metal in my whip, don’t know what’s at stake
that’s on my mother, b~tch, that’s on my brothers, is he gettin’ smoked? he might need another
shout~out to def, f~ckin’ with me, then i’m bringing you death
got crystals on my neck, not meth, f~ck with the gang and then see what you get
b~tch, pull up with the stick, but you ain’t no threat, got them in they graves, that sh~t’s all set
this ain’t og, this b~tch p~ssy, he need god, for real
don’t act up or act out, them homies in the trap house
take that sh~t, he gon’ black out, and if he don’t? at least he passed out
just know you ain’t safe, though, eyes peeled, gotta stay low
b~tch on the floor like j lo, don’t try me, you ain’t dej loaf (it’s ded!)
[outro]
leeboy, you on the track
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