Young Jeezy - Trap Or Die Lyrics
Added On: July 8, 2005
| Last Update: November 16, 2005
Trap Or Die by Young Jeezy Lyrics
jeezy verse: last time i checked i was tha man on these streetz. call me residue i leave blow on these beats. got diarrhea flow man i shit on niggaz. even when i constipated i still shit on niggaz. got some super friends in the legion of doom. blowin purple shit that keep yoi high like the moon. i'm a affliate i know hitmen. i'm a hater like you. fuck my wrist bend. niggaz sneak dissing and that ain't how we play. you fuck with mine you catch drama like d.j.. now tell me i ain't real. it's a.r. that i'm holding i got gansta grill. i went from old school chevy's to beamer coupes. i got a hundred niggas with me and everybody gone shoot. try me nigga and thats yo first mistake. i eat yo little ass up like a shantrel plate. the whole pie like dominoes yes indeed i tryna stack my bacon i need extra cheese. you can try dog but it ain't easy you mix flake with the soul you got young jeezy. you still talk blow man soft white like alaska snowman
chorus: smoke purp by tha pound. goose by tha fifth. re-up on tha first and again on tha fifth. yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh we trap or die nigga. and all these ho's love a nigga cuz they know that we da truth. got tha chevy same color tropicana orange juice. yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh we trap or die nigga we trap nigga
Jezzy verse: Host on da block rain, sleet,snow, sunny slow motion don't nuttin move but the money trap all day wit no lunch breaks it's dinner time but a ganster cookin' pancakes rubber bands when we rack dem stacks tryna ship it out of town you know sagrana wrap keep dem hands in case them k-9's get loose inertubes like the tires on my mongoose.
chorus: smoke purp by tha pound. goose by tha fifth. re-up on tha first and again on tha fifth. yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh we trap or die nigga. and all these ho's love a nigga cuz they know that we da truth. got tha chevy same color tropicana orange juice. yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh we trap or die nigga we trap nigga
bun b
Yea, back up in the hood again, where it's all good again.Ridin candy slab, grippin on the wood again.Outta line niggas 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 aint got to clientele and tell.You the hoax and niggas know it, that shit aint hard to tell.Rat bitch, recognize that your cheese aint 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 aint down for gettin killed.
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