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traffic jam - matt nye lyrics

[verse1]
look i’m a good man, trauma got me in a bad place
i lost a lot of love and replaced it with a fine rage
it’s hard to talk about my problems without a beat playing
if i do i’ll probably spark a blunt to stop my shaking hand

i’m shaking hands locking eyes seeing through their glance
i keep a pistol in my pants i don’t f*cking dance
they making plans, no weapons formin’ against me stand
even if you k!lled me ninjas scroll, my monsters check my hands
i got more ghosts than you got folks, in this living realm
they watching you and whispering in my ear if i should put you down
maybe i am broken because i was left at the lost and found
went cali*bound now i’m smoking with the dog pound

and that’s just crazy if you knew me in them days lost when i named my very first pistol litte natе dogg
cuz it made me feel like i was thе hardest man in this town
until my brother took it, went to use it and they shot him down

i guess we reaping only what we sowing down, papa left the seed and now this rose can crack a concrete mound
my petals lifting up these mountains off the f*cking ground
go and eat a d*ck from the back, and smell that doo*doo brown

[chorus]
cuz life’s just a traffic jam moving through the city
smoking my bud’ and feeling so sh*tty
looking at the booties and i’m staring at her titties
but i’d rather go home and cuddle up with my kitties

cuz life’s just a traffic jam moving through the city
smoking my bud and feeling so sh*tty
looking at the booties and i’m staring at her titties
but i’d rather go home and cuddle up with my kitties

[verse2]
i see the world from the point of view of an evil’s eye
think about the dead so much i hardly feel alive
and sometimes i go outside so i can see the sky
immediately walk back in and find a beat to rhyme
my pistol in a safe just to give me sp*ce
cuz on an off day, probably put a hole into my face

no matter how high i climb i’ll never see your face
i build myself a tower of babel lead me to outer sp*ce
i guess to ever see you again i’d need a time machine
that’s a hard pill to swallow like a lima bean

even with a million streams i can’t afford finer things
it’s back to robbing tourists who think they buying the finest green
i’m on that og knowledge b*tch you a throwback
leave a palm right at your feet like it’s a toe tag

i don’t brag, i make moves, a loco*mo*tive
oh*sh*t, i didn’t know your b*tch was on some ho*sh*t
don’t trip or you might find yourself in the ocean
you no fish, you should stay on the land and just coast it

you ghosted, you dead homie you got no emotion
i’m open, i kept it 100 since i was spoken
devoted, k!ll your whole cl!ck without a motive
i’m old*head, i come from the testies of a dope head

you can try and test me, i make messy out your fore*head
you could not impress me i’m laser in my focus
[chorus]
life’s just a traffic jam moving through the city
smoking my bud and feeling so sh*tty
looking at the booties and i’m staring at her titties
but i’d rather go home and cuddle up with my kitties

- matt nye lyrics

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