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Buckshot - Trapped lyrics
[buckshot] It was a puff of black smoke, in the air I choke, then i witness two beady eyes there Glare, wit no fear, pitch black Waitin for the brother to attack, i tried to speak I tried to talk, but my voice is gone I feel like i'm on the other side, word is bond But he ease up and tell me to stand still I can't move at my own will, chill, i don't feel That the situation cause for panickin, i'm stiff like a mannequin But then again, when i felt the cold breeze Ease across my back, lay back, in the wind, watch a brother cease in Out the window, smooth like a puff of smoke, when i take a toke I feel the body ain't no joke So follow me, as i follow him Into the night, and you can see the light [chorus 4x] I feel like i'm trapped in the world of rap I feel like i'm trapped [buckshot] Wake up, you can kill the steady talk We gon' steady walk, where? First look in the eye of a needle and stare Dreads in my hair, oh yeah, the bdi glare, yeah Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye, you can come near me, don't fear me But spare me, the bullshit you talk to everybody else Cuz it's irrelevant to those who got knowledge to self Why equals self, so why ask why, i try Not to ask why, while my shotty lie beside my bed Thoughts in my head make my dreads grow, so you bled slow But you wouldn't let go, the best is yet to come Lay back as i kick some lyrics from my dia- Phragm, god damn, somebody got lost, here i am, whose the boss? Verbal floss (floss) if you know what's best for you When they rescue, bd buck shot at the average group Ain't nothin personal, but at rehearsal I'm serve justice for a click, and we roll thick [chorus 4x] [buckshot] One man steps up to the mic, right, by a little man, right Short height, smooth throat, that's made to float And came to drop the bomb, everybody is listenin, so i remain calm And drop it on the topic of the dress code Timberland strapped type, and stomp a nigga head mode We reside on the bowls of peace in the belly of the beast But how cant here be peace when the devil never cease To cause mischief, this shit is makin me griff Outta control, i'm fed up wit it, i'm dead up wit it See i'm ready for head up wit it Shit it on who? back in '82, it was you Yup, you started it, now everybody wants a little part of it What, the rap music, i know you can't refuse it But i'm here to tell you that you must lose it Strictly convo, rhythm and poetry, shit, it got to go [chorus to fade] |
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