trife diesel - gangsta shit lyrics
[intro: trife diesel]
uh-huh, let’s go, know what i mean?
lot of these m-th-f-ckin’ rappers
talking alot of bullsh-t on these tracks
you know what i mean?
they dry snitching, throwing indirect
well this what we gon’ do, man
we gon’ flush all these rats out the system
know what i mean? set a few traps
get they -ss up out of here, yeah, yo
[verse 1: trife diesel]
for all y’all n-ggas with them nextels, chirpin’ and bleepin’
on them walkie talkies frontin’, like y’all work for the precint
10-4 n-ggas claiming they hustlers, soon as they cuff ya
in interrogation booths, y’all confessing like usher
do the crime, do the time, that’s the way i was taught
and f-ck surrending to jake, n-gga, i’d rather get caught
you got these n-ggas on camera, frontin’ hard with they team
wavin’ they hammers, incriminating theyself on the screen
roleplaying, imitating some movie they seen
that ain’t gangsta, real gangsta n-ggas generate cream
and now you wonder why the feds come knock me
infiltrating the system
don’t be suprised n-gga, you let those cops in
plus the record labels is watching, you think they gonna sign you?
you think they gonna put up that bread and get behind you
reality check, stupid, let me remind you
all that tryna push ya way through the door, deceased in 9-2
[hook: trife diesel]
yah-yo, yah-yo, this is that gangsta sh-t
go ‘head and roll ya window down and crank that sh-t
whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo cl!ck
my new york n-ggas get money, and slam those bricks
yah-yo, yah-yo, this is that gangsta sh-t
go ‘head and roll ya window down and crank that sh-t
whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo cl!ck
my new york n-ggas get money, and slam those bricks
[verse 2: trife diesel]
in the hood, i’m a legend like john, i’ve never been harmed
on the block shooting dice, holding bread in my palm
gatten island n-ggas, yeah we got a fetish for arms
berettas tucked in our leathers, strapped with terrorist bombs
shorties, running around with more gunz than corey
getting high off weed smoke, blowing your funds on forties
you’ll be amazed how these rappers try to run with stories
this ain’t a novel, m-th-f-cka, this is guts and glory
pain and struggle, the game will crush you, it’s a everyday hustle
you want to eat, you better strain your muscles
hopeless martyrs, afraid when approached by mobsters
with them grams, call me sam the way i’m “coachin'” “carters”
with starters, listen homey we can never be partners
don’t get it twisted, handle business with my hands and revolvers
the grown man, that’ll touch up your wig, like beauty parlors
pop n-ggas, like, how we pop bottles, you do the honors, n-gga
[hook: trife diesel]
yah-yo, yah-yo, this is that gangsta sh-t
go ‘head and roll ya window down and crank that sh-t
whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo cl!ck
my new york n-ggas get money, and slam those bricks
yah-yo, yah-yo, this is that gangsta sh-t
go ‘head and roll ya window down and crank that sh-t
whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo cl!ck
my new york n-ggas get money, and slam those bricks
[verse 3: tommy whispers]
spot you twenty points, and you still can’t win
you can’t compare grey goo’ to gin, you too thin
ya’ll n-ggas is hubcaps f-ckin’ with big rims
if the shoe fit, then your foot in my timb
masked up, hoodies and gems, i couldn’t defend
your t-tle small, a deuce-deuce next to a rifle
the hackle’ll snipe you, disconnect and dis-mic you
disrespect your rivals, have you dancing like michael
moonwalker, uh-huh, platoon bark, goons in the dark
only lights from the spark, boom-boom in the parks
vocals in fumes from my darts, lead the roofs on the part
f-ck up your happy home, daddy’s back with a chrome
sn-tchin’ ya throne, you mimicking, you actually cloned
finish him, i’m crackin’ ya bones, diminishing
real terror, purple men, backed off pistoling
like them papies uptown, them hammers is whistling
[hook: trife diesel]
yah-yo, yah-yo, this is that gangsta sh-t
go ‘head and roll ya window down and crank that sh-t
whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo cl!ck
my new york n-ggas get money, and slam those bricks
yah-yo, yah-yo, this is that gangsta sh-t
go ‘head and roll ya window down and crank that sh-t
whether ya red or blue, homey, bang your cl!ck
my new york n-ggas get money, and slam those bricks
[outro: trife diesel]
uh, yeah, 718
criminal grind, theodore
trife da god
yo slay, what up, my n-gga?
tommy whispers, kryme life, nah’m’sayin’?
money come first
t.m.f. we getting money over here
gatten island n-ggas, know what i mean?
where the guns go off
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