Strapstars

[Intro: Giggs] Spare Boom Productions Spare It's nothing (Spare) Boom Productions Strapstars Nothing You must be used to him by now Trapstars (Stars) Ahh Trapstars Trapstars Spare Listen [Verse 1: Giggs] Right now the streets are getting darker And the shit I’m going through, ain't the type that you can repeating to a pastor (Nah) Bagging work then meeting people after I say my shit's cut, it’s not the type that you'll be healing with a plaster Right now I'm grieving 'cause the feds My phone ain't ringing Not even on the weekends fam, it's dead (Yeah) I'm getting funny feelings in my head (Head) My baby mothers adding to the streets So I ain't even sleeping in her bed (For real) And this is how I’m feeling on the regs Somebody help me up, it’s like I ain't got no feeling in my legs I’m tryna get this feeling out my head (Head) That's why I'm on the track right now Just reasoning with dread It's like I got the world on my back (Yeah) And poverty’s got me in the kitchen with the scales and the packs On the low, as I sail through the trap (Trap) And enemies got me in the cab Loading shells in the strap [Chorus: Giggs] Some motherfucking trapstars Motherfucking hooligans Niggas don't [?] with me, they know what type of mood I'm in Trapstars Cuz I'm on this shooting ting A nigga chat shit to me, I'm motherfucking shooting him Trapstars So where's your fucking shooters then? You got a lot of shooters but you don't know what to do with them It's a motherfucking (Trapstars) Another banging tune again, when Hollowman and Grizzle's on the motherfucking tune again [Verse 2: Joe Grind] I left my line at Giggs' Spit the facts, you just died on me My weights are at [?] but he's not even on me And I'm walking 'round, with a 8th, I don't know if it's weighed right I'm so pissed, just noticed, I ain't rhymed yet It's time to get my mind right I'm gonna get some scales, bag my green up Charge up my line and grind all night I ain't going home tonight [?] the whole time Only when my green's done, that's when it's home time I'm on the roads, asking certain niggas for a [?] Don't smoke, but if they got it, I'ma put them on my line Tell them 079, I ain't Mike Jones Screaming numbers from the track, I'ma put it in the phone My plan is to make a nice P Stay on the low, don't need attention from the D's I'm on my last name Ask anybody that knows about me [Chorus: Giggs] I'm a motherfucking trapstars Motherfucking hooligans Niggas don't [?] with me, they know what type of mood I'm in Trapstars Cuz I'm on this shooting ting A nigga chat shit to me, I'm motherfucking shooting him Trapstars So where's your fucking shooters then? You got a lot of shooters but you don't know what to do with them It's a motherfucking (Trapstars) Another banging tune again, when Hollowman and Grizzle's on the motherfucking tune again [Verse 3: Giggs & Joe Grind, Both] Right then, our shit is getting graphic And the only way I know to make P's is to get coke and wrap it up in plastic My line rings from 3, ain't going that quick If I wanna make P's, I'm gonna have to use some better tactics Hustling's in my blood, I never needed practice I do shit off my own back, I don't need no one to scratch this Soon as the phone rings, I'm [?] (Yeah) An opportunity to make P's? Then believe I'm gonna grab it This is how our life live Joe's got the Harry White wits And Giggs has got the savage white smith Yeah, you can either have it like this And if a nigga slips Then we can let him have it like Chris Fam I got the strally out quick You're moving too sick (Sick) I'll just let the standing knife [?] (Yeah) [?] hit you get a samurai split And that's what the fucks gon' happen if your hand's in my shit