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richard ritch - wack trap $hit lyrics

bust down a pack
bust down a sack
you run in my trap
and i bust out the strap
bust down the watch
bust out the glock
she said she want more
so i bust out my c-ck
bust down a pack
bust down a sack
you run in my trap
and i bust out the strap
bust down the watch
bust out the glock
she said she want more
so i bust out my c-ck

ball is life except life’s a bag
if you don’t get that
then you don’t get past
put me on a track and i’ll run it back
no rebound shots cuz i’m always strapped
count it down, i need a hunnid back
got a hunnid cats, with a hunnid macs
no apple store gon f-ck with that
gon need some more they back in the trap
throw a hunnid rounds or a hunnid racks
my cuban links keep getting fat
if you can handle that then we can make it fit
this all you wanted? that wack trap sh-t?
nah f-ck all that, lets really rap
i said f-ck the bread let’s make a loaf
we made it here so lets make a toast
she look like she just seen a ghost
feel like she lookin at another grave
and her nights go by like another day
winter came and they let it snow
made fast cash and they let it go
ain’t in the gym still moving weight
they made it known they was gettin paid
but when sh-t gets tight like the kitchen maid
then the weak gon squeeze like lemonade
that tricky sh-t yea that don’t play
caught in the sh-t and his minutes maid

yea we ain’t got no manners putting elbows on the table
independent no advance i’m screaming f-ck a label
got a hundred channels i dont watch but i still pay for cable
put my girl in new chanel she gon ride me like the stables
said she drowning in my ice but i told her i can’t save her
never catch me gettin wetted but i’m drowning in this paper
quit asking about my other hoes you know i ain’t a player
cuz i got more stripes than the motherf-ckin ref
yea i’m callin shots cuz my game is f-ckin set
and when i call your girl up i bet a rack her p-ssy wet
he was screaming goal cuz he hit the net
but thats 3 strikes and he caught the tech
call that ghost riding hit in the neck
when i roll dice that’s a winning bet
see 3 blind mice how they f-ck with shrek?
you in my swamp when you getting stomped
call me a dom cuz i’m on the top
when the phone clicks and the calls drop
if he don’t return then his soul lost
in this world i got two stocks
thats my own word and what’s below my c-ck
you ain’t got word till your b-lls drop
f-ck the ops and the police
f-ck enemies and triple b
for all those who disagree
i plead you put your head between
my timberlands and calhoun st
dont f-ck with me or that flame 19
thats cool g, we know where you be
won’t see me when i’m on the creep

- richard ritch lyrics

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