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talgreazy - trap time lyrics

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[intro]
(kp beatz)

[verse 1]
trap time in the kitchen, let’s get this pot whippin’
i came up in the moss, really robbin’ pigeons
n+ggas know what i’m on, i let the youngers eat
and any time it’s beef, then i lock and load and squeeze
i look into my mums eyes and i know she ain’t pleased
when she hears the strips taped and she knows it’s me
feds on my case cause’ i done a load of greaze
always got them lookin’ for them sh+lls in white ovaries
i need a load of p’s, why’d you think i’m still trappin’
if i got paid for my verses i’d just stick to rappin’
no cappin’, patty says he wants a credit
but i don’t do ticks, samples for the new nits
everybody talks crud but they don’t shoot sticks
i’m sick and tired of these n+ggas, man they’re useless
it’s the game, you get used if you’re useful
if i see an opp anywhere, they get moved to
i was raised round og’s, not the new school
cold+hearted k!llers, won’t [?] to roof you
but i need that rooftop, penthouse view spot
and a shoebox filled up with new gwop
and everything buss down, member’ when i used to catch the bus down
now it’s germans, pedal shift, no clutch now
n+ggas changed on me so i don’t trust now, the hoods foul
[chorus]
trap time in the kitchen, let’s get this pot whippin’
turn that flake into rock, let’s get this spot flippin’
started off with a q, now i get half chickens
n+ggas left me to rot, i bet they wish they didn’t
trap time in the kitchen, let’s get this pot whippin’
turn that flake into rock, let’s get this spot flippin’
started off with a q, now i get half chickens
n+ggas left me to rot, i bet they wish they didn’t

[verse 2]
n+ggas left me to rot, i bet they wish they didn’t
two years on recall, i bet they thought i was finished
buss case, back to business, now i’m in my new crib
bout’ to go tap the missus, blowin’ on this pack with swishers
the games changed nowadays, n+ggas chat to snitches
and they say they’ll ride but they just chat like b+tches
can’t be assed with the hype cause’ i’ll slap a witness
said i’m done with this life but i’m back in the kitchen
pipe dreams, i need a belly like peter griffin
jerked the plug for a box, had everybody ringin’
when i was stuck on the block i couldn’t get a bringin’
it was o’s of the cro’ til’ faze showed me whitney
now the cats know my face all over the city
the blocks hot, feds plot hopin’ they can nick me
told my n+gga don’t speak on the phone cah’ these phones are risky
bagged my little n+gga with the pole so i just sent a pinkie
clean hearted younger but his trigger fingers itchy
now i’m tryna make it out the hood, look what it done to nipsey
look what it done to cherry, i could name so many



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