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Artist: Young Jeezy f/ Bun B
Album:  Let's Get It: Thug Motivation 101
Song:   Trap or Die
Typed by:,

[Bun B]
Jeezy, I know you ain't gon' let this shit go down like this nigga
I'm hearin these niggaz in the club, niggaz soundin like you nigga
Bitin your motherfuckin ad-libs, bitin your motherfuckin style nigga
What the fuck goin on nigga? 
You better check these motherfuckin niggaz mayne, real fuck wit real nigga
and these niggaz ain't real out here on these motherfuckin streets nigga
Especially these fuck ass industry niggaz mayne
Nigga we been doin this shit since ninety-five

[Young Jeezy]
Last time I checked I was the man on these streets
They call me residue, I leave blow in these beats
Got diarrhea, now I shit on niggaz (geah)
Even when I'm constipated I still shit on niggaz (let's get it)
Got some Super Friends in the Legion of Doom
Stay blowin purple shit that keep me high like the moon
(yeahh) I'm an affiliate, I'm no hitman
I'm a hater like you, fuck my wristband
Nigga sneak this and, that ain't how we play
Fuck with mind, get ya drama like the DJ (that's right)
Now tell me I ain't real, this AR that I'm holdin got a gangsta grill
Went from old school Chevys, to Beamer coupes
Got a hundred niggaz with me and errybody gon shoot (yeahh)
Try me nigga, that's your first mistake (ha-ha)
Eat your lil' ass up like a chanterelle plate
The whole pie like Domino's, yes indeed
I'm tryna stack my bacon up, I need extra cheese (hey)
You can try dawg, but it ain't easy (nope)
Mix the flake with the soda, you got Young Jeezy (damnn)
You still wanna talk blow man?
Soft white like Alaska, call me snowman (heyy)

[Chorus: Young Jeezy]
Smoke purp' by the pound, O's by the fifth
Re-up on the first then again on the fifth (yeahhh)
We trap or die nigga (geah, oh!), we trap or die nigga
And these hoes love a nigga cause they know that we the truth
Got the Chevy same color Tropicana orange juice (yeahhh)
We trap or die nigga (geah, oh!), we trap or die nigga

[Young Jeezy]
Post on the block, rain, sleet, snow, sunny (sunny)
Slow motion, don't nothin move but the money (geah)
Trap all day (day), with no lunch breaks (nope)
It's dinner time but a gangsta cookin pancakes (ha-ha!)
Rubberbands when we wrap them stacks (stacks)
Time to ship it outta town, you know Saran's the wrap (yeahhh)
Think ahead incase the K-9's get loose (geah)
Inner tubes like the tires on my Mongoose (heyy)


[Bun B]
Yeah, back up in the hood again, where it's all good again
Ridin candy slab, grippin on the wood again
Outta line niggaz get back in place where you should've been
In case you don't understand, I'ma make it understood again
King of the underground, my gangsta will never fail
You 'bout to make me go postal for fuckin with my mail
You got the connect, but you ain't got the clientele
You the hoax and niggaz know it, that shit ain't hard to tell
Rat bitch, recognize that your cheese ain't been to sales
I'm finna break some bread with the feds? You dumb as hell
I been around the block before, sold it all from rock to blow
And I don't fuck around, when the feds in town I got to go
Respect my mind cause I'm a trill old schooler
Summer time get too hot, I wait for winter when its cooler
U.G.K. for life, free the Pimp, you know the deal
In P.A.T. it's Trap or Die and we ain't down for gettin killed