Buckshot - Trapped Lyrics
[buckshot]It was a puff of black smoke, in the airI choke, then i witness two beady eyes thereGlare, wit no fear, pitch blackWaitin for the brother to attack, i tried to speakI tried to talk, but my voice is goneI feel like i'm on the other side, word is bondBut he ease up and tell me to stand stillI can't move at my own will, chill, i don't feelThat the situation cause for panickin, i'm stiff like a mannequinBut then again, when i felt the cold breezeEase across my back, lay back, in the wind, watch a brother cease inOut the window, smooth like a puff of smoke, when i take a tokeI feel the body ain't no jokeSo follow me, as i follow himInto the night, and you can see the light[chorus 4x]I feel like i'm trapped in the world of rapI feel like i'm trapped[buckshot]Wake up, you can kill the steady talkWe gon' steady walk, where?First look in the eye of a needle and stareDreads in my hair, oh yeah, the bdi glare, yeahHear ye, hear ye, hear ye, you can come near me, don't fear meBut spare me, the bullshit you talk to everybody elseCuz it's irrelevant to those who got knowledge to selfWhy equals self, so why ask why, i tryNot to ask why, while my shotty lie beside my bedThoughts in my head make my dreads grow, so you bled slowBut you wouldn't let go, the best is yet to comeLay back as i kick some lyrics from my dia-Phragm, god damn, somebody got lost, here i am, whose the boss?Verbal floss (floss) if you know what's best for youWhen they rescue, bd buck shot at the average groupAin't nothin personal, but at rehearsalI'm serve justice for a click, and we roll thick[chorus 4x][buckshot]One man steps up to the mic, right, by a little man, rightShort height, smooth throat, that's made to floatAnd came to drop the bomb, everybody is listenin, so i remain calmAnd drop it on the topic of the dress codeTimberland strapped type, and stomp a nigga head modeWe reside on the bowls of peace in the belly of the beastBut how cant here be peace when the devil never ceaseTo cause mischief, this shit is makin me griffOutta control, i'm fed up wit it, i'm dead up wit itSee i'm ready for head up wit itShit it on who? back in '82, it was youYup, you started it, now everybody wants a little part of itWhat, the rap music, i know you can't refuse itBut i'm here to tell you that you must lose itStrictly convo, rhythm and poetry, shit, it got to go[chorus to fade]
