x2 Traume kommn, Traume gehn Was dann passiert werden wir sehn Wenn es so kommt, wie wir wollten Wollten wir vielleicht nur traumen [Traume kommn, Traume
So I Pistol Whip Them Dudes The Blunt Trauma With The Chrome Laama I Learnt A Lot From The Mo' Dramas The Game Of Life Is More Like Blood-Sport Thats
I Pistol Whip Them Dudes The Blunt Trauma With The Chrome Laama I Learnt A Lot From The Mo' Dramas The Game Of Life Is More Like Blood-Sport Thats
how we always did it since i was a troubled kid But we don't stop cuz our heart is pumpin' blood like thunder No man up in the trauma, head is broken
ain't prepared, too scared to do it Dippin cigerettes in embalmin fluid Hoods, special effects bring the drama to it But sue me if you wanna see the trauma
to stretch you, but that Ricket blew it Mark-ass Crabs droppin shit like a Sega I called up G-Pops and told hI'm my nigga need the Desert Eagle Blood
minus 8 and a quarter percent For taxes point seven damn cents Hence financial failure -- musical uplift The depression didn't result in draw of a spliff The production of the LP great by the hands of HT Well appreciated G
ruffside To the shithole crew And we're paid [Chorus x4] [B.I.G.:] (Goodness gracious) Gettin' money [B.I.G.:] (Tha papers) Gettin' money [B.I.G.:] (
[Canibus] Jeah, Rhythmatic Jiu Jitsu Comin to get'chu G-G-G-G-Giu spit some lyrical shit at you Rhythmatic Jiu Jitsu, left hand pin you to the wall While
Sell quarter P's trying to flip keys [G'LEN:] Off Hen' with the devilish grin It's G'Len, shootin' slugs at skin drawing blood like LBN's (WOOP! WOOP
Killer Mike] Stoned is the way of my walk In a mini-mack eleven, the tone when I talk When I spray niggas pray, lay on the sidewalk Color blood red, body
Stoned is the way of my walk In a mini-mack eleven, the tone when I talk When I spray niggas pray, lay on the sidewalk Color blood red, body outlined
jacks nigga, make you hit the floor [Chorus] [Fat Joe] Yes, please believe she gorgeous And she ain't gon' leave once she see the fortress The blood red G
said "Aw shit" I straight mash burnin rubber on the freeway bro Strikin mad on the freeway straight to general My bullet bad coughin blood up on the gurney G
(feat. B.A. Barakus, Diamondback, Louis Logic) Yeah, Vinnie Paz baby 2 G baby Army of the Pharoahs All that good shit [Ikon the Hologram] Yo, yo The
emcees like balona Slingin' Provolna from New York to California So-called rap capo's bang with dis you don't wanna End up cold trauma - unrecognizable
But I have to keep my day job) I really hate my day job (Yeah I really hate my day job) [Verse Two] About to kill everybody I hate toilin in mud it's straight boilin my blood