Three 6 Mafia Feat. Project Pat

Текст песни Trap Boom

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Three 6 Mafia Feat. Project Pat - Текст песни Trap Boom

I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom

I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls
I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls

I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom

I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls
I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls

Rocks under my balls, pistol in my drawers
A bird of blow on the table break quarters and halves off
For those who comin’ through, this ain't Casino but I'm your dealer
Tony Montana, chill like Al Pacino in ‘Scarface’ nigga

The jack boys talk a lot of noise but on the realla
Got killers posted up, e'ry Goldfinger's a trigger
Her-on is so intense, the syrup goin’ by the ounce
Put the money in my hands, cop your goods, and then you bounce

See, I ain't the nigga that was up at five o'clock to sell no rocks
I'm the nigga that was out at midnight to drop off a block
In a tinted out Maxima, they low-key and quick
Snowin’ out the door with a Glock and a trunk full of bricks

I make the track boom, boom, without even touchin’ it
As for my black [Incomprehensible] I'm just supplyin’ it
I went to Key West and picked it up, back in Memphis broke it up
Call my nigga in, get our Crist', then we split it up

I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom

I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls
I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls
Three 6 Mafia Feat. Project Pat - Trap Boom - http://ru.motolyrics.com/three-6-mafia-feat-project-pat/trap-boom-lyrics.html
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom

I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls
I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls

His dope sales are up, a nigga feelin’ bellish
His pockets swellin’ up ‘cause e'rything he's sellin’
The heat is on the street, my niggaz gettin’ jealous
The chopper's on the seat to cut you up like relish

The hood ain't changed ‘cause these niggaz still tellin’
To lock this nigga up a two time felon
This boy ain't bullshittin’, he'll kick in doors and kill 'em
And hide them bodies good, that you can't even smell 'em

He niggarish and ignorant so, fuck who in your crib
This gangster life, he livin’ it so, fuck your wife and kids
These janky niggaz on the town I hope they know the biz
To all you federal tattletales, swap out where you live

I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom

I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls
I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls

I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom
I make the trap, boom, boom

I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls
I got soft, I got hard
I got pills, I got balls

You know the worst part about sellin’ dope
Is 80 percent of black people in jail
Because of drugs, domestic violence and murder
So you should think about that
Get your life together my nigga

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