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letra de or die (dead) - joey trap

[intro]
ah

[chorus]
ah, man get no sleep in the street, no bed
how you say no cap when there’s one on yo’ head
[?] man end up dead
man end up dead (dead, dead)
big .44, get filled with led
how i’m a god but my shoes still bled? (uh)
christian loub’s stomp ’em out, all red (uh, uh, uh)
(all i see is red) red, huh

[verse 1]
this sh-t hot, need a talk on ted
when the opps come through, can’t talk to the feds
opp said he wants smoke, mans off his med, meds
she gon’ do what i say like i’m simon says
all these diamonds too bright, don’t know what time it says
srt engine loud, it got too much rev
hot, hot, hot, with the chop, with thе pots and pans (pans)
in the back with the thots and bands (bands)
b-tch, don’t stop, give mе top no hands (no hands)
b-tch, don’t stop, you gon’ pop it on cam
oh, that b-tch is your thot? i’m like, “d-mn”
i got stuck in her throat, got it jammed
sippin’ codeine, all the beans got a ten
how i did all this sh-t with no plan?
i just go talk on the mic for my fans
i just been hustlin’, feedin’ my fam
in the trap, not a rapper, i don’t feel like chance
lil’ b-tch, stop talkin’, throw that top
in the trap house, throw that rock
in the field with a mac, let it pop
f-ck all the swords and the knives, need a glock
f-ck all the swords and the knives, need a chop
get shot ’til your face go pop
make plans ’cause the bass don’t stop
fiends lining up for the base, go shop
[chorus]
ah, man get no sleep in the street, no bed
how you say no cap when there’s one on yo’ head
[?] man end up dead
man end up dead (dead, dead)
big .44, get filled with led
how i’m a god but my shoes still bled? (uh)
christian loub’s stomp ’em out, all red
red, huh

[verse 2]
b-tch, just choose, it’s me or your man
do you wanna be broke or be louis vuitton?
my diamonds water, i feel like my neck on a pond
right ‘cross the border, i get all the packs on demand
in the trap house countin’ them bands for fun
you came with a knife but we came with a gun
i’m in the u-haul filled with them bricks, like a ton
it can’t be none of y’all n-ggas, just know i’m the one
i feel like the godfather ’cause y’all are my sons
y’all pockets low, y’all got no funds
and i’m in cali smokin’ runtz
ah, huh
london pound cake, 75 in london
this pack gon’ fight, no we not doin’ frontin’
you can die from the chop if we pull one b-tton
n-gga, ah
i’m out in london, i’m smokin’ on london

- joey trap

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