Trappin’ Ain’t Dead lyrics

Please tell these n*ggas there’s no ho in me
These n*ggas takin all these shots but ain’t no holes in me
So what you shootin at n*ggas you ain’t hit sh*t yet
Jus check my black tee and it still ain’t wet --
Please tell these n*ggas there’s no ho in me
These n*ggas takin all these shots but ain’t no holes in me
So what you shootin at n*gga you ain’t hit sh*t yet
Should be aiming at mah head, I’m top down on ya set!

Bring em cheechs and them lil n*ggas got
I'mma keep it 100 till mah f*ckin heart stop
Catch me doin 200 in mah f*ckin hardtop
I do it for mah n*ggas sitting in them cell blocks

Muh f*cka I’m nice and I don’t mean kind
See that I’m the truth then they must be blind
Deaf, dumb – either how, either way here’s the outcome
I’m showin up a hundred deep like Malcolm
Imagine Farrakhan, meets Babylon; Enemy of the state – First 48
I’m goin psycho in this b*tch, n*gga Norman Bates
And when I’m done goin hand every notivate
Time to get em straight, lemme coordinate
260 yeah that's right about a quarter cake
Say that weight is over, yeah tha weight is over
I’d really hate to be the one to say I f*ckin’ told ya
What would I ever really been without that baking soda?
Remember waking up in Granny's to that baking odor
Sat down kitchen table had my first meal
And at that same kitchen table seen my first mil
In that same backroom I seen my first half
And in that same backroom opened my worst half
A n*gga lost so bad it was my worst math
Look like the sh*t you put off in a bird bath
What cud I say even the realest n*ggas got caught
What cud I say even the realest n*ggas quote Pac
So confident it's like he's relaxing
Quit being shy n*gga just ask him

EY MR. YOUNG JIZZLE FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE MAP
YOU EVER BEEN ON 75 WIT ONE IN YA LAP?
One better Candler Road – wit two in mah jeans
Kalb County ridin’ hard yadadamean?
THEY SAY YOU MAKE IT THEN THEY HATE
THIS IS WHAT THEY MEAN?
A real n*gga to another – that’s just how it seems
Thought we was from the same cloth even the same seams
Even wore the same jersey on the same team
These n*ggas really outta place they so outta bounds
So go on take ya lil shots till ya outta rounds
Then I'mma smoke it till mah weed man outta pounds
Then we goin blaze until you pus*y n*ggas outta downs
Critics say he on hold, he won’t change it up
A real n*gga won’t fold ya’ll can hang it up
Bring me the Jury and the Judge watch me crank it up
Ya’ll know this real sh*t cost you can ring me up!