lirik lagu g. twilight - the trapstar diaries
[verse 1]
dear diary, these cowards keep trying me
these b-tches keep lying to me
my blood keeps denying’ me
i’m empty inside, i feel so hollow
sometimes instead of f-cking i wish my mama just swallowed
that’s a f-cked up thing to say, but please don’t judge
when i love, i love and when i hate i grudge
i’m emotionally detached and so withdrawn
if we can’t get along, we gon’ get it on
i’m a cool -ss n-gga, i try not to start sh-t
i’m trying to survive in an open air drug market
instead of saying’ i don’t know, i’d rather say i don’t care
my main influence is water, fire, and air
sun in cancer, moon in sagittarius
rising gemini, my combination is the scariest
raised by a capricorn
won’t stop til’ my package gone
my name ring loud on whatever block that i’m trappin’ on
“sour diesel” and “kush” rolled in a joint
blowing on that good, a notebook and ballpoints
k!lling brain cells, getting high than a motherf-cker
then i’m walking by and not saying “hi” to motherf-ckers
[hook]
i took notes on a criminal conspiracy
memorize, repeat and now the street hearing me
it’s not just my fam, it’s my whole team i’m feeding
the trap star diaries burn after reading
[verse 2]
i was a good kid living in a mad city
when i was broke doing bad, no one had pity
no money for nothing, living with my mama
i was a doormat and girlfriends gave me nothing but drama
so i followed this older n-gga in the game, moving weight
but i was wet behind the ears jumped off the porch late
but that was “o”-eight, i ain’t have my sh-t strait
learned a lesson in the game at a high interest rate
but now i got goons hunting’ down my rivals/
i read donald goines like it’s the bible
or adam smith’s wealth of nations
what’s the expected value and the standard deviation
got college credit for de moivre’s doctrine of chances
now i’m in the trap, taking penitentiary chances
i got headache i can’t take aspirin for
glock on the table, my eyes on the door
n-ggas want to rob me, cops want to raid the trap house
the street life is a dice game, don’t cr-p out
what the probability of hitting a seven or eleven
if i died tonight i probably wouldn’t go to heaven
[hook]
[verse 3]
all it takes is guts and a little know how
i’m trying to do numbers, but keep a low profile
catch me in the kitchen weighing up my business plan
cut from the cloth of a fortune 500 businessman
underworld rise
on the cover of don diva and black enterprise
branch out and franchise
supply curve, demand curve, gdp
business administration, wc3
my tongue get them wet, but the money get them wetter
taurus or scorpio, the thicker the better
the hood been so hot
since that detective got shot
and its effecting how the numbers adding up at my spot
can’t walk to the quic-pac to get some arm and hammer
without overzealous cops trying to put me in the slammer
asking a bunch of question like diane sawyer
i ain’t got nothing to say, b-tch talk to my lawyer
my faith in god has been replaced with’ faith in cash and triggers/
i don’t trust no ho’s and i ain’t scared of no n-gga/
i get money, so now i’m the person they hate/
my main business ain’t dope its real estate/
[hook] [x2]
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