Trap Suit (feat. Saxman Diggle)

Yo Gold rizzla with expensive weed
Connor Washington from outside the D
I got haters that stay onto me
Hella gold when I show my teeth
My seats low when I reload
Paid the depo a few zeros
We stay fly call me heathrow
She see them bands and then she deepthroat
My friends in jail waiting ona visit
My face is getting bait i might just go missing
Im fed up of this...
And all this sneak dissin
She can take it all
I bet she cant give it
I aint coming fast I aint ferdi
I aint inda trap im in turkey
You aint been there you aint done that
Ca your stuck in the hood like a rugrat
Talking bout dip what you know about cheffing
Real nigga inda kitchen hella food I'm prepping
Press start and let me change the settings
Big batty gyal yh she moving eager
Telling me
How she live my voice through the speaker
She know im tuggy on my own
I dont need a feature
Blowing out hella smoke like im smoking sheesha
Moving aggy inda passy grippin on the beater
But i got
Too much to lose too much to live for
I'll put money on his head and let the needy eat more
Yh im thoughful and forgiving
Ill tell a bitch boy keep your distance
I hope he really listens
But they take kindness for weakness so
Ima move nasty so i cheat death
I aint tryna eat less
All my swimmers drowning inda deep end
This is real ish this aint pretend
They wanna see me kill my brother
Make my family suffer
They wanna see us inda gutter
With no bread and butter
It intensifies while you desensitised
Yh i grew around that energy
No i dont believe what they telling me
It takes offence to me
Defensively
Man should draw for the ting
We shouldn't let it be
But same time yh its mad out here
Ca man will do road for the cash out here
Same time ima dad out here
And real talk theres no man i fear
Theres so much fuckery going down
Im talking right now
There putting drugs
In our food and our water
What im teaching and im giving to my daughter
Aint the same as yours
Coz I knew knowledge was power
Since the day i was born
N we dont play that
Ca my ancestors patterned it from qway back
So let me clean your spirit
With the fruits of labour
N if you get it i respect it
We still get that papers
Im just tryna spread a message
Continue your blessings

Im in the hood with the young gs slanging
Shotterz n munford got the beat banging
Check the drip a young nigga in fashion
Wanna make money join the band wagon
I tell a hater carry on n get patterned
Ill cuss man down in Patois
In my hood black lives dnt matter
I need money ca i wanna be free
U want money ca u wanna be seen
Like all my hitterz in the T
I was taught by an OG
No names
Dry snitching
We aint the same
I grew up on grime
U grew up on drake
You've been framed
Not im just bait
Mana got big food on my plate
You can tell im real amongst all the fake
Ca man dnt rap for your validation
Man started to rap in a dirty basement
Now I'm gonna blow I'm just being patient
Join the Queue
if u wanna start hating
Ain't got haters
Then you aint poppin
More time
I just take my kids shopping

Uh Real Spit



Credits
Writer(s): Ray R
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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