trife - dj clay lyrics
[intro: jamie madrox]
trife
yo, what’s up? this is jamie madrox up at the studio, eatin’ some barbecue scrimp, bumpin’ that let ’em bleed! yo clay, hit ’em with that sh*t!
[chorus: young hood]
(trife) she’s only out for sale
been around the corner with everybody else (trife)
and she’s a thug digger
she only tryna get you when you down on your [?] (trife)
on [?] for the chips
attitude is a b*tch, and it ain’t hard to tell (trife)
and it belates your mind
we caught up in lies, get you locked up in jail (trife)
[verse 1: dj clay]
she goes out with her friends on the weekend
no sleep, cuz she’s gone off them e*pills
got birth control and always keeps it refilled
says she don’t use rubbers, like the way the d feels
uh, she got a man, but she’ll leave him
drop him like it’s nothing, hood rats don’t need a reason
she does sh*t without thinking
got 2 babydans and the babies ain’t eatin’
another new pair of jeans
and another look at me, shirt showin’ off her cleavage
ridin’ around the city, screamin’
hangin’ out the window of her best friend’s jeep
thinkin’ that she’s only sixteen
when by now, she should be working on a master’s degree
it’s too much to grasp, see you’re weak
you’re a sl*t, b*tch, and you’ll always be
[chorus: young hood]
(trife) she’s only out for sale
been around the corner with everybody else (trife)
and she’s a thug digger
she only tryna get you when you down on your [?] (trife)
on [?] for the chips
attitude is a b*tch, and it ain’t hard to tell (trife)
and it belates your mind
we caught up in lies, get you locked up in jail (trife)
[verse 2: dj clay]
she thinks the other chicks are haters
she ain’t a hoe, she just calls herself a player
the type that’ll call you nine months later
talkin’ ’bout it’s a boy and she’s sending in her papers
anyway to get paid but
she don’t know what a real workday does
only nose pumps and makeup
prayin’ for the day that some rich guy takes her
she doesn’t see she’s in the wrong
flirtin’ with her man’s best friend when he’s gone
actin’ like she on her cell phone
walkin’ ’round in a white t and a hot pink thong
she livin’ life on her own
but she doesn’t know that livin’ trife is how she’s known
i guess you never do if it’s you
it’s true, some b*tches be too…
[chorus: young hood]
(trife) she’s only out for sale
been around the corner with everybody else (trife)
and she’s a thug digger
she only tryna get you when you down on your [?] (trife)
on [?] for the chips
attitude is a b*tch, and it ain’t hard to tell (trife)
and it belates your mind
we caught up in lies, get you locked up in jail (trife)
she’s only out for sale
been around the corner with everybody else (trife)
and she’s a thug digger
she only tryna get you when you down on your [?] (trife)
on [?] for the chips
attitude is a b*tch, and it ain’t hard to tell (trife)
and it belates your mind
we caught up in lies, get you locked up in jail (d*j clay!) (trife)
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