Luyện nghe bài hát Born In The Trap

I was in the crosshairs without a pot to piss in
Where niggas get smoked over their and their Pippens
Welcome to California, nah, it ain't as New York
But life is a bitch out here: to Too Short
Wack as a shooter so we him Tony Kukoc
banging had us addicted like it was Newports
Whoever thought that it would like petroleum
Now BP connect got us praying to holy men
Just had a daughter homie, her Katrina
If I raise her right, maybe she can take over FEMA
Spike Lee in New Orleans documentaries
And Game still in eating off The Documentary
em to the symmetry I mean the cemetery
Where everybody in: Refrigerator Perry

And everybody fuck up, they blame it on Barack
Cause he's just T.I.: Born in the Trap
And everybody little fuck up, blame it on Barack
Cause he's just like Gucci: Born in the
And everybody little up, they blame it on Barack
Cause just like Jeezy: Born in the Trap
And every fuck up, my gun she go "crack!"
Cause I'm just like Outkast, born in the

So going on with you faggots?
And what you gonna do your swag no longer matters?
And your bitch the baddest cause she in her mid-40s
And your Phantom played out so you hating on the
they running around like they was your age
Fucking bitches raw cause now the ain't got no AIDS
Yeah, 2050 on niggas
Golddiggers sucked you dry left hickeys on you
I to run around like you, run the town like you
Walk my red and clown like you
But it got old like Betty
rap shit real deep like Barry White
Reminiscing on the days I used to white
Walking though them Crip hoods in the Cherry
Now I live a life, walking in the house, to them home-cooked meals
American Express accounts and less dollar bills

Niggas still got hands out, begging for a stack
Just like Mob, I was born in the Trap
Niggas still got their out, begging for a stack
But like Luda, I was born in the Trap
Niggas still got their hands out, for a stack
But like Soulja Boy, I was in the Trap
ass niggas still got their hands out, begging for a stack
Take 'em to Lo, nigga, learn how to Trap

Shit deeper The Roots band
15's drumming, in the coupe fam
Riding Pittsburgh, Wiz got the Steelers
by the jungle so I came with gorillas
Since dropping more dimes than we fuckin'
We out the hood, get money like (?)
Splitting just to get our weed stuffed in
The crack we cookin, we don't need
We need something to put in the mouth of our
Instead of copping chains, fly to Chile and dig
Go to Haiti and feed to the Bahamas and
On the way back, to my nigga from Belize, you know
Sometimes I feel this rap shit is heaven sent
Then I get a high, feel it's irrelevant
So I'm about to pop the trunk an elephant
And with Wyclef while he run for president
I'm 'bout to pop the trunk like an
And campaign with while he run for president
Told you I was gonna this shit, Premo..