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trigue - dig it fresh lyrics

hook
what up son, can you feel combustion?/
when i come to touch one, we counting down next/
never one to rush one, let it build, eruption/
k!ll your old customs, dig it fresh/

verse 1 – trigue
i curse a lot/ i’m f-cking sorry/
in the entourage i’m ari, in the city on safari/
taking puffs of rastafari, cause f-ck it, it was my birthday/
dipping through the party, still fly on my worst day/
had a couple bad ones, toast to the good times/
cross out the trash ones, highlight the good rhymes/
welcome to the process, emcees are lazy/
mumbling on the mic, your magic tricks they don’t amaze me/
i speak in tongues, like i just got saved/
and i make the rain fall when i step in the name of/
k!lling in the name of love, moron, oxy/
like cold fire or dressing up to be down/
ain’t no uniform for this/
so forget my form before i’m forced to shapeshift/
the box i don’t fit, and not the circle either/
i’ve just begun to spit, i do not need a breather/
my goal in this sh-t, as a raw public speaker/
is to take every risk when i’m mixing in my beaker/
mad scientist, lion king sniffing for a lioness/
to braid my mane and back me up through the violence/
vileness, never getting tired from the mileage/
grown man, graduated past all the child sh-t/
check my nut hairs if you’re inquiring/
multi-faceted, product of my environment/

verse 2 – vijay
never been a f-cking model citizen/
music ain’t been hot but the flame’s rekindling/
burning down your huts and the village-men, k!lling them/
y’all wanna eat with no pilgrimage, well gargle this cinnamon/
mixed with a little hint of ritalin/
you ain’t a mack without the cheese and the chickenheads/
so what that means if you’re listening/
a pimp ain’t sh-t without his green and his women friends/

verse 3 – trigue
women friends, casually known as b-tches, excuse my inconsistence/
let pose for a couple pictures in this shiny grimy business/
you cannot afford to miss it, miss what, your shot mister sniper/
there’s a shooter out there trying to rip it/
best believe i’m gimmick-less, limitless, less of all the bull-mess/
you talk about gats you a tool chest, sonny/
i’m a true test, dummy, nothing moves but the money/
so i’m learning how to sprint like a dollar do/

verse 4 – vijay
hold on, dollar do, trigue, let me holler at you/
if life is a beach, then i think i dig malibu/
here is a thought or two, no matter how you selling it/
won’t be heard if you’re not ear-rellevant/
soul, never selling it, that’s what i’m telling kids/
and never use god’s gift for the h-ll of it/
know i’m authentic, you can see it in my melanin/
and i’m going postal and no i’m not mailing it, gone/

verse 5 – trigue
gone but not forgotten, so sweet never rotten/
i could tuck on an option or drop back and spot ‘em/
never had it easy, so of course i am a problem/
it’s happy hour, f-ck it i’m on/

hook

- trigue lyrics

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