Trizz R-Mean Emoney by Team Backpack Lyrics
[Verse 1: Trizz]
Walk like a man, I don't sit cause I stand
On my own two legs understand what I'm saying?
Grind for my own dollar and I make my own plans
Gotta live for today cause tomorrow's not planned
I'm 22 and black, I'm making music, ahh man
Statistically like every other nigga, goddamn
Rolling up this swisher, getting lifted off the OE
Everybody know me, 'till everybody owe me
I'm low key like I'm hiding from the police
Banging on [?] smoking (postal?) with the homies
I keep a weapon on me, and can't nobody hold me
But if you can show me, I'm out here, blow me
Blowed off the [?], Trizz never OD and I don't even smoke all the time like the old me
I'm never more than 4 deep
That's all we need to slow creep on niggas trying to smoke me
Bitch die slowly
I'm feeling skitzo, am I mental? Feeling used like a rental sentimental with this pistol pressed against my temple
It's a problem, it's a casualty, a fucking issue
So I express it with this pencil, I am so official
Fuck life, and the bullshit it comes with
The bitches and the money and the rest of that dumb shit
This is it for me, I'm twiting up this OZ
I'll mix it with this OE, I'm low-key
You know me!
[Verse 2: R-Mean]
The problem is all of these rappers the same, I can tell when they look at me
They seen me on Sway In The Morning: Five Fingers of Death and they shook of me
The difference is when I be spitting shit's real that's why it affect you
They ain't saying shit they just rapping all fast to try to impress you
Fuck that homie I don't play that
I've been doing enough, dare a motherfucker come say shit
Fuck they clip we all went to hell and back but the difference is mine was a one way trip
Spit like my gun full clip and I pull it out the hip when it click and it run so quick
Spit everyone 'gon trip homie fuck a 9 to 5 man we grind like the sun don't sit
And I'd reach out but I can't reach
Trapped in the jungle with mad beasts
And this lion will attack to fight, but the snake just attacks to eat
So he attacks the weak
Writing in his candlelight hope my words will attack the streets
Like I was packing heat
Like a box of matches we've been set up
Like a boxing matches I box you out
My job is done you can't clock me out I came this far
Can't stop me now, whoa shit
It'll sound like the cops around
Gotta run from the cops
Guns getting cocked
When your punchlines ain't the clock
And your son's crying cause he's hungry you got no funds in your pocket, you hung 'till you drop
When the sky is falling where do you run?
Running out of luck
Running out of time and running out of breath in your lungs
The homie dropped before me
Ball's in the court and the cops be forcing a shot like Kobe
So we say "Motherfuck the police"
Still getting fucked by police!
And it's nothing personal but I deserve to know cause I've been hurt before
When I'mma learn to grow with every verse I disperse getting versatile
Urge to blow
[?] I'mma search the soul
On the motherfucking rise like the murder toll
Only smoking that shit that the earth would grow
Cause these rappers don't concern me bro
[Verse 3: Emoney]
First of all I'm taking off
Going to the jet like Percy Harv
When I rap they want some more cause this mellow cracker got Hershey bars
Last to leave and the first to ball
You don't put in work until hurt tomorrow
The rap game to put me on an island ain't crossing a bridge I burnt them all
So I'mma do it on my own don't need no deal
All you people can't be so real
I feel like an elephant up in the room
RIP to Patrice O'Neil
Can I be sincere? I'm fed up with lames
Want to get the cheddar better better your brain
The I in me is saying there's no I in "WE" so all you do is play video games
And you take a risk to get paid for this
And to be A-List with an alias
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't trying to be as well known as an ex-boyfriend of Taylor Swift
But I'm chasing it cause I'm facing that
I was made for this type of labor
You can even ask my college homie
$50 and I'll write your paper
I was either banging women or banging a beat
Either way I mean I wasn't liked by neighbors
Always stay true to the team I'm with
How do you know? Cause I like the Raiders!
Always go hard
You know it's Emoney and I kill mics
Now put your cell phone down and enjoy this shit dog
In real life
Walk like a man, I don't sit cause I stand
On my own two legs understand what I'm saying?
Grind for my own dollar and I make my own plans
Gotta live for today cause tomorrow's not planned
I'm 22 and black, I'm making music, ahh man
Statistically like every other nigga, goddamn
Rolling up this swisher, getting lifted off the OE
Everybody know me, 'till everybody owe me
I'm low key like I'm hiding from the police
Banging on [?] smoking (postal?) with the homies
I keep a weapon on me, and can't nobody hold me
But if you can show me, I'm out here, blow me
Blowed off the [?], Trizz never OD and I don't even smoke all the time like the old me
I'm never more than 4 deep
That's all we need to slow creep on niggas trying to smoke me
Bitch die slowly
I'm feeling skitzo, am I mental? Feeling used like a rental sentimental with this pistol pressed against my temple
It's a problem, it's a casualty, a fucking issue
So I express it with this pencil, I am so official
Fuck life, and the bullshit it comes with
The bitches and the money and the rest of that dumb shit
This is it for me, I'm twiting up this OZ
I'll mix it with this OE, I'm low-key
You know me!
[Verse 2: R-Mean]
The problem is all of these rappers the same, I can tell when they look at me
They seen me on Sway In The Morning: Five Fingers of Death and they shook of me
The difference is when I be spitting shit's real that's why it affect you
They ain't saying shit they just rapping all fast to try to impress you
Fuck that homie I don't play that
I've been doing enough, dare a motherfucker come say shit
Fuck they clip we all went to hell and back but the difference is mine was a one way trip
Spit like my gun full clip and I pull it out the hip when it click and it run so quick
Spit everyone 'gon trip homie fuck a 9 to 5 man we grind like the sun don't sit
And I'd reach out but I can't reach
Trapped in the jungle with mad beasts
And this lion will attack to fight, but the snake just attacks to eat
So he attacks the weak
Writing in his candlelight hope my words will attack the streets
Like I was packing heat
Like a box of matches we've been set up
Like a boxing matches I box you out
My job is done you can't clock me out I came this far
Can't stop me now, whoa shit
It'll sound like the cops around
Gotta run from the cops
Guns getting cocked
When your punchlines ain't the clock
And your son's crying cause he's hungry you got no funds in your pocket, you hung 'till you drop
When the sky is falling where do you run?
Running out of luck
Running out of time and running out of breath in your lungs
The homie dropped before me
Ball's in the court and the cops be forcing a shot like Kobe
So we say "Motherfuck the police"
Still getting fucked by police!
And it's nothing personal but I deserve to know cause I've been hurt before
When I'mma learn to grow with every verse I disperse getting versatile
Urge to blow
[?] I'mma search the soul
On the motherfucking rise like the murder toll
Only smoking that shit that the earth would grow
Cause these rappers don't concern me bro
[Verse 3: Emoney]
First of all I'm taking off
Going to the jet like Percy Harv
When I rap they want some more cause this mellow cracker got Hershey bars
Last to leave and the first to ball
You don't put in work until hurt tomorrow
The rap game to put me on an island ain't crossing a bridge I burnt them all
So I'mma do it on my own don't need no deal
All you people can't be so real
I feel like an elephant up in the room
RIP to Patrice O'Neil
Can I be sincere? I'm fed up with lames
Want to get the cheddar better better your brain
The I in me is saying there's no I in "WE" so all you do is play video games
And you take a risk to get paid for this
And to be A-List with an alias
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't trying to be as well known as an ex-boyfriend of Taylor Swift
But I'm chasing it cause I'm facing that
I was made for this type of labor
You can even ask my college homie
$50 and I'll write your paper
I was either banging women or banging a beat
Either way I mean I wasn't liked by neighbors
Always stay true to the team I'm with
How do you know? Cause I like the Raiders!
Always go hard
You know it's Emoney and I kill mics
Now put your cell phone down and enjoy this shit dog
In real life