Song Page - Lyrify.me

Lyrify.me

Trappametics by Endaiz Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2017

[prod. by Brircks On Da Beat]

[Intro]
Oye, oye (oye, oye)
Bad Vibes From Backpack
Still lookin' for hate, aye
You think it's save but it's mess
Step on your ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne, oye
(Bricks On Da Beat)
Hey!
Talkin' the pictures, I'm talkin' a witcher
I'm paintin' and paintin', I'm paintin' a picture
It is gonna hit you, I don't need no feature
I am myself teachin', 'cause my teachers been snitchin'
You bitchin' then switchin' then preach something's itchin'
I'm twitchin' the pitcher with horrible creatures and with y'all
They eat you, I'm laughin', I'm happy they'll beat you
Two bites and no issue, no issue, no issue

[Verse 1]
First picture's out where you all on your knees (woo)
Two bitches proud when they suck on these dicks (woo)
Three quinces in Rakia, two shots they so sleaze (oh)
Four wheeler like cum, it runs over their lips (oh)
Five words off her mouth that I wanna squeeze (woo)
Six star hotels but it's all in their dreams (woo)
Seven's the number goes after the six (oh)
Eightballers at school, now their fathers are seized (aye)
[Hook]
Go far away, bitch ass boy
You know I hate every local hoe
Not doin' both trap and math, oye
Step on your grave like on grass, oye
Go far away, bitch ass boy
You know I hate every local hoe
Not doin' both trap and math, oye
Step on your grave like on grass, oye

[verse 2]
One plus one is the amount of shots that I do
Two plus two, all the seasons I'm through, aye
Three plus three, that's local rappers' IQ
Four plus four, oral sex that's your ho, oye
Five plus five, my punchlines like mirage
Six plus six and plus nine, twenty one and garage
Seven plus seven, down to go to the C for massage?
Eight plus eight, MTV show's on montage
Catchin' them vibes through my auidos
Matchin' the size, a lot on her nose
All of my reasons that no one knows
I plus, you count, see I am your boss (sauce)
God damn, you too agressive right now
Not dissin' you is a blessin' somehow (how?)
Peers in my town are dressin' like cows
Piss on your tongue, all pressing's allowed, oh
[Hook]
Go far away, bitch ass boy
You know I hate every local hoe
Not doin' both trap and math, oye
Step on your grave like on grass, oye
Go far away, bitch ass boy
You know I hate every local hoe
Not doin' both trap and math, oye
Step on your grave like on grass, oye

[Verse 3]
I was sent like sand to make history, mystery
Last band in my hand, what I need is is money, is money
Fuck money, this my day, fuck a tag (Bricks On Da Beat), oye
Whatever you'll love or rep, I promise to go against it
No matter and weather is a glove or a net, I'll take it off
I'm too tensed up, I'm lit
Your bitch she gon' swallow every letter I spit, ooh
Speak to me dirt like I do to you
Sick of all of you moral fags
This is not rock, that's some rap, boo
I can't obstain from callin' your mother a slut
Just because you don't think so, boo
You just got mad 'cause I just told you the truth, boo
Ice comes from the fire in booth, oye
Our relationship has come to a point when I wanna lose, boo
[Hook]
Go far away, bitch ass boy
You know I hate every local hoe
Not doin' both trap and math, oye
Step on your grave like on grass, oye
Go far away, bitch ass boy
You know I hate every local hoe
Not doin' both trap and math, oye
Step on your grave like on grass, oye