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• Artiste: Joey Trap
• Titre: Blasphemy
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Young Rich Squad Yeah, yeah Akachi, he on the beat, it's a murder Bring it back to the days when I ain't have no food in my stomach Only the realest come from it Don't dream, I just wanted this life, ain't all funny I had to get to the money I went straight to get it and bought me a mic Now everyday, boy, I write I live just what I say, I don't get indecisive These niggas invasive, best get out my life 'Cause I ain't fuckin' with you, you ain't actin' right Niggas be talkin' a lot, but it's actions that matters All I see is steak filet on my platter Out in Houston eatin' shrimp with the cabbage Yeah, I'm single, but it's money I marriage, yeah Haha, let me talk about it Let me talk about how my niggas done turned up against me I'm in the garden with snakes and this pistol defend me How I'm different 'cause I'm rockin' this Fendi You ain't get it on your own and you empty And what the fuck wrong with these niggas I don't need to make songs with these niggas I can do this shit all with no features I'm in Puerto Rico on the beaches You ain't more than the nigga that teach you All these rappers, they sit on the bleachers Watch me preachin' A lot of y'all bitin' my style I've been seen that shit for a while (Damn) And they say I be bitin' y'all, yeah That shit is blasphemy, nigga Tooters, they blastin' me, nigga Niggas ain't passin' me, nigga, I'm The original, OG, smokin' dody This an old beef, fuck the police Niggas know me, keep a poley Haha, man this shit my G, uh Gettin' this money my G, uh I'm out in sunny side Queens Gettin' honey, no bees, uh Yeah, haha