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gas state - trappin trapasso lyrics

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[verse 1*trappin trapasso]

***** pack up in the air, i call that gas state(halogen)
how the f*ck you stand on business , if you can’t stand straight(drake)
switching up when **** around, i know that ass fake(fake)
how you never teach us sh*t, but made bout our grade(fake ass *****)
how you talkin all that sh*t you pushing 68(d*mn)
probably worshipping the devil, go to h*llsgate(h*llsgate)
dont give a f*ck about your class, i’m starting to feel like drake(?)
heartbreak when your wife walked out, i call that 808(kanye)
calling me a piece of sh*t, show me a piece of bread
i know your pockets probably hurt, show me a f*cking spread(b*tch)
when i went to talk to you, i smelled smoke on your breath
when your wife said she would leave, i bet you probably begged(?)
it’s time to put the bottle down, its f*cking up your liver(daddy please)
its time to put the pipe down(you f*cking ******)
and i’m still running through my sack like i play for the steelers
imagine majoring in **** just to come out a teacher
methinks your ass a b*tch so b*tch get off my d*ck
methinks your ass a hoe a hoe can’t tell me sh*t
tell me how you need new lungs from all that f*cking nic(coughing sounds)
***** pack up in this b*tch, i smoke like nardo wick

[verse 2*busty boys]
when i’m cooking meth to sell to kids my chemistry be positive(proton)
walter white ass look*alike, but you doing the opposite(broke ass *****)
crack slowing down your brain man, its f*cking up your cognitive(r*t*rd)
complaining bout your lungs as if crack ain’t the cause of it
***** be starving us for some sh*t the freshman did(g*y ass *****)
ironic he’s in a school cause he can’t get his own kids(?)
tried to buy a fourth but his broke ass got outbid
getting railed by a bull like he lives in madrid(ole)
laura kane you still a b*tch, i hope your son dies(death sound)
runnin into me and my four friends get jumped by five guys(burgers and fries)
findin out your living room dimensions like some russian spies
edp ass b*tch, tell me how you pushin 445(cupcake)
f*ck going band for band you b*tch we going stroke for stroke(moan noise)
wife left, and took the kids you had her in a f*cking choke
8 am inside the bathroom b*tch, you smoking crack
ima finally satisfy your wife, she ain’t coming back
ima slam your head into the ground, like its groundball(line)
crackpipe singing too you real nice, thats a birdcall(bird noises x2)
leaving in the middle of class, he’s going awol
stockpile all up in the fridge, full of f*cking alcohol
walter split his family that b*tch divided, like a cell(mitosis)
buying meth from all these mexicans, pay the cartel
ima drive a car and hit your son, sending him to h*ll
play follow the leader(and k!ll yourself)

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