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letra de trapped too much - krispylife kidd

[intro: krispylife kidd]
(if you ain’t got a beat from bam, you don’t trap enough)
ayy
krispylife
just like this, mmm

[verse 1: krispylife kidd]
50 in the club, they let me in with it
i don’t wanna have no rap battle, i like to k!ll n-ggas
tryna keep my composure, but i’m off these pills trippin’
knocked his cabbage on the ground, ain’t no way you still livin’
my n-gga was finna grab five, i told him grab ten
we beat out everybody price, tell ’em tap in
put some money on your head, i used my backend
i’m mad to statistics, i just k!lled another black man
f-ck your latest trend, boy, i ain’t no dancer, n-gga
f-ck what you call it, boy, i put my hands on b-tches
like i’m tryna put him on some p-ssy, i put gramz in women
got my jeans frustrated, i keep stuffin’ bands in ’em

[verse 2: clean up man]
my feet hurt around this b-tch the way i stand on business
got my feet hurt around this b-tch the way i cut his grizzy
like you the hotdog man, you got hit with glizzy
it ain’t take much to get the head, i pulled up with krispy
i’ve been gettin’ pape’, unlike you broke n-ggas
street n-gga, i’m in ridgecrest f-ckin’ a glorilla
more mon-more money, more problems, i brought more pistols
dropped a hundred shots, i could outscore the whole pistons
if you ain’t got a beat from bam, you don’t trap enough
i seen that lil’ spot you workin’ out, you don’t slap enough
female artist hit me for a feature, you tryna rap or f-ck?
i’m h-rny, i ain’t tryna hear your song, baby, wrap it up
[verse 3: krispylife kidd]
f-cked two hoes in one night, i’m a h-rn ball
the hoes don’t really f-ck with you ’cause you a cornball
i tell a lot of bread come with this meat like a corn dog
i hit her deep with this meat, i feel sorry for them forewalls
i’m in the club a hundred deep, pick your poison
had to stomp a n-gga, now i’m mad about my forces
i love my b-tch rock the bob, she look like dora
i know a bad b-tch that suck your d-ck for a quarter

[verse 4: clean up man]
fiend up, n-gga, you would spend your last on a quarter
only got two hundred dollars, we spent your last on some jordans
sittin’ on that bag from a month ago, you a h–rder
ten thousand, one store, this sh-t ain’t normal
had to be a man about my sh-t, strap my nuts on
like the chop doin’ a dance, you would get krumped on
we out here really slammin’ on sh-t, don’t get dunked on
if you ain’t tryna get no pape’ out here, then get the f-ck on

[verse 5: krispylife kidd]
am i overreactin’ or i’m just the realest n-gga?
n-ggas get drunk and tender and try to take that p-ssy with ’em
i pray and thank god every day, i’m not no p-ssy n-gga
a n-gga could never catch up with me, he can just see me livin’
in cleveland watchin’ the browns, smack all on the jets
my n-gga tote a revolver, this the wild west
i pulled up with 30 on me, they done found steph
baptize a b-tch in the club, who i’ma drown next?
[verse 6: clean up man]
if i pull up with this k, i’ma make a mess
put some pep in your sh-t, you takin’ baby steps
if you f-ckin’ with the opps, you gon’ get the belt
if you wanna come cop it, all i got is an eighthy left

- krispylife kidd

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