Trapped Music Pt. 2 - Ras Kass

All my life a real nigga

All my life I been real, nigga

All these bitch niggas with soap boxes

Claim they trap gods and dope sponsors

I’ll leave the drama to Ak

I’ma just stick to the facts

Makes sense you goofy, your mama wack

At school with a gat and red MAGA.

hat

Niggas ain’t woke, just insomniac

Lit off of cocaine and cognac

Phony rat, hold me back

Nah, fuck that, I’ma let go

You either homo or metro, I’m hetero

No doubt I’m insured like the gecko

I’m gassed and full of the petrol

And I told your ass from the get-go

My future is retro

My past is the next flow

You dead, I’m a necro

I’m charged like electro

Stop knocking, the party is next door

Dressed all black in Depeche Mode

Rump Shake at a Wreckx-n-Effect show

She give good brain, intellectual

Put lead to your head like you Destro

All my life a real nigga

All my life I been real, nigga

All these bitch niggas with soap boxes

Claim they trap gods and dope sponsors

We don’t buy it

No street cred, only debt for lyin'

Up on a fifth of the genie bottle, wish you would try it (Tonight)

I wish you would try it

Just stick to the facts

This bigger than rap

Just stick to the facts

And don’t get caught up 'cause this shit is a trap

Just stick to the facts

This bigger than rap

You lack, leave you clapped, that’s a fact

So I’m constantly watching my back

Real lyricist, real life experience

Sample your shit with no clearances

We ride or die, you crash and burn in real life, The Fast and the Furious

Travel with bitches, I came with a nine but now she a ten in the bed

'Cause I’m on Pacific Standard Time and AZ’s an hour ahead

Lead that just shower your head, squeeze it and bust

Heated them up, defeated and fucked

Turned your brain to noodles and soup like I’m feeding 'em pho

Reppin' the people, The Dreamers, Haiti, Puerto Rico

I am a lethal illegal amigo

One man Voltron, Black Ultron

Haters keep wanting me RICO’d

Nope, fuck Joe Arpaio

Turn that fucker face into pico de gallo

No wins in mi casa

You start and end with an O like spelling Ohio

You’re welcome to try, though

Line for line like Scarface doing cocaine rails

I supply the high, design the sky

Been fly since '95

All my life a real nigga

All my life I been real, nigga

All these bitch niggas with soap boxes

Claim they trap gods and dope sponsors

We don’t buy it

No street cred, only debt for lyin'

Up on a fifth of the genie bottle, wish you would try it (Tonight)

I wish you would try it

Ayy, yo, ma

Ayy, yo, ma

Yo, man

What, Melanie?

What, what you yellin' at me for?

What you mean?

You callin' me like I’m a shorty or somethin'

You are a shorty, look at your fuckin' purse, you dumbass

It’s not a purse, stupid

It looks like a fucking purse so I’ma call it a purse

It’s fashion

It’s not fuckin' fashion, bruh, shit look stupid

All the rappers is doin' it, they look stupid?

Yeah

No

If they fuckin' wear some shit like that

They look stupid?

You’re wrong

Yup, they all fuckin' look stupid

They walkin' around lookin' with a purse

This is Fendi, you’re wildin', this is fashion

Fuck out of here

Don’t call me like that, for real

Ayy, yo, ma

Yo, ma

You know what?

Fuck you then