Trapped On The Tracks

(альбом: The Midnight Life - 2014)

"Trapped on the tracks, tra-trapped on the tracks" (Uhh...)
"Trapped on the tracks, tra-trapped on the tracks" (Uhh...)
(Uhh... Uhh...)
"Trapped on the tracks, trapped on the tracks" (Uh-)
"Trapped on the tracks, t-t-trapped on the tracks" (Uhh...)
..."Trapped on the tracks" (Uhh...)
..."Tra-trapped on the tracks"

[Bishop Lamont:]
Head-on collision, rev up the engine, leave ya head missin
Rebel vandalism, yes most certainly
Quik, this-this is smash-smash, we might as well call this a crash derby
Don't worry, I come with it, ride tracks like Southern Pacific
No topic on specific, I'm just stretchin out linguistics
Run trains like conductors on dank, now who wanna hit it?
Cee-Carson in this BITCH~! Compton in here too
And we been drinkin all day long and ain't no tellin what we'll do, cause we...

[David Blake II:]
Hol' up (hol' up) Roll up (roll up), and let my fam go pour up (yeah)
Party out in CPT and nigga we don't need no hold-ups
Got them boys and they all out here, suckas don't even come 'round here
Fake niggaz don't even come close, Compton in this coast to coast
Flickin up on Spruce-Spruce, pops done let me loose-loose
Niggaz out on these tracks and ain't no tellin what they gon' do
Alright look, I see you I see you, I'm standin all over you jokes
Yea, and shout out to Migos cause they game assist with the flow
What? Yea

[Chorus:]
"Trapped on the tracks, tra-trapped on the tracks" (Uhh...)
"Trapped on the tracks, tra-trapped on the tracks" (Uhh...)
"B-B-Bouncin, dippin, drankin, rollin up" (Uhh...)
"Poppin, swervin, ballin, ro-r-r-roll-roll" (Uh-)
"Trapped on the tracks, trapped on the tracks" (Uhh...)
"Trapped on the tracks, t-t-trapped on the tracks" (Uhh...)
"Bouncin, dippin, drankin" "Trapped on the tracks"
"Poppin, swervin, ballin" "T-Trapped on the tracks"

[DJ Quik:]
When it comes to bein solid, I am one of the hardest
I be in Compton chillin like I'm a freakin new artist
When is he gonna start it? Pour out for the dearly departed
The ones with the hustle, providin the muscle, I can go further than y'all did
I'm on a drum machine drum, shootin beats out like a sub-machine pump
Look at that rump, she doubled that jug, lookin like she got canalopes in her trunk
On stage cockin that gauge, these niggaz all on the same page
Bishop and Quiksta and Dave doin the nastiest shit to your babe ALL ABOOOARD!

[Bishop Lamont:]
Homie, show me where's all the non-believers, I'ma spit it real like the blood of Jesus
Flashin on' 'em effortlessly, epilepsy, if you listen this might cause seizures
See us, we us, stay us, and we never adjust when it's never enough
You suckas discuss, you discussin 'bout us, you fuckers disgust, sucka just shush
Consecutive murder, satelites won't see us, meaning we'll do a, drive-by, in a Prius
Still got gas, come back fast, blast, don't start no 'deas (B-R-R-R-RAT-DAT-DAT!)
P.S. I'm just heatin up, atmosphere get eaten up
I'm eager, stronger, meaner, leaner, 'bout to blow Fukashima

[Chorus]

[David Blake II:]
It's my ambition, my vision man, no losses on my record (naw!)
Not that business that I'm 'bout that make 'em treat me like I'm treasure (yea!)
Look all through the rough and long enough you'll find a dummy
I've been searchin through these rooms and found a book that great nostalgic
Told my nigga that Metro ridah, man it ain't gon' last forever
Keep yo' eyes up on the prize, we gon' laugh at the past together
Locomotive on the door, that's why they put me on the tracks
Man I'm warnin all you niggaz, don't wanna cross or you get trapped, yeah!

[DJ Quik:]
I drive imported cars, chill with imported broads
If I'm not on Metrolink, I'm linkin up these bars
Drinkin imported liquor, smokin domestic buds
Champagne, you know that's my thang, those Veuve Clicquot suds
Richie Rich call me facetime, the limo Escalade
We party Secret Sundays, that's LA's escapade
Always more chicks than homies, with or without their thongies
Player elite for life, don't need alot of cronies

[Chorus]