TripTrap - PRESSURE скачать в хорошем качестве

TripTrap - PRESSURE

Lyrics Barbaric in a Bottega Baby Draco in the diaper bag Bible page as a paper tag Name written where the halos sag I been Shot caller in a shell case Shell toe on your staircase Shake your shooter, make his aim shake Saints pray, then the safe break They like “How she talk that apocalypse?” Poppin’ lip Pocket rocket Pocket lint Still profit, flip Polygraph poppin’, I lie smooth Hum through it Hunnid-round drum, got a haiku One movement I’m the Hood high priestess Teeth like thesis Every line defense Every dime decent Demon in a dress with a deep end secret Bleach on the bloodstain Never leave sequence (sssh) Yeah Look Uh I’m that black box buried in a crashed rhyme flight Crack code, spit road signs in a red-light night Tongue twist, turn wrist, write rifts in the grid Every consonant a pistol that I pistol-whip with I’m the glitch in the glitch, in the pitch, in the mix Cross-wire synapse, slip facts through the rifts Whole script shape-shift when the ink hit air You can’t mirror my mind, cracked glass don’t stare - I fold foes like origami in a morgue lobby Cold body of your flow in my word safari I do algebra with acronyms, fracture hymns Factor in that your faction thin, lackin limbs I amputate an amateur, leave half a simile Glock gospel, I’m the pastor of the powder pack Pow-wow with the predators, we politic on power grabs Pretty face, petty, put a price on your paragraph Paramedics paddlin’, your partner where the flowers at? (where?) Code-switch slick, I’m a snake in a sequin Say a slick sentence, have you sinkin’ in the deep end Every consonant a consequence, comma like a casket I’m the cause, I’m the clause, close caption on the havoc (uh) Dirty sprite deity, deity with dirty hands Dior dust on the dash, dealin’ with my demons, man Hate in my heart, still I’m prayin’ for the bigger bag Hit a lick, hit the gas, hear the engine laugh (skrrt) Hush money hummin’ in the duffle (shh) Blood on the buckle, that’s subtle Tongue turn a tussle to a tunnel You don’t see the shovel ’Til you stumble in the rubble I been a glitch in the garden, a lit cigarette in the crib with the gas on Laugh while I flick in the dark and I kiss every spark, let it dance on You rappers cafeteria tough, all tray talk, grape juice gang strong I bring a lunchroom brawl to your label retreat, watch the nametags fall off Teeth like a pitbull padlock, jaws on a pad, that a pad get shredded Ink drip venom, each letter like a lead pipe swing, every vowel beheaded You water down death threats, Etsy-made machetes, cardboard edges My pen draw red carpets round necks, every step get measured in exit I turn a prayer circle to a spiral notebook, pages full of sirens Every line a tire iron, slid up in the bible jacket that you slide in Count your streams, I count spinal cords, dangling like blind cords Curtains on your idol tour, VIP pass to a silent morgue You "went viral" off a dance, I went viral off an autopsy transcript Doctor in the booth, long gloves, long verse, heart still twitch when I end it Talk courage, you plastic courage, Halloween mask with the tag still hangin I cut face value till your fanbase browse, scroll past, can’t stand it I’m the reason that your group chat muted, my name in it sound like sirens You the reason that the group chat quiet, only time you pop is when I write in I turn compliments into coffins, every flower on your grave is a grammar error You drop "vibes," I drop vertebrae, suitcase full of backbones, baggage claim terror Rap like a bomb vest, each bar one wire, I tug with a slight grin You pray that I slip, but I trip with intention, land sharp like a spike strip You sell soul fragments on a flash sale, half-price halos, nice pitch I sell closed caskets with a custom font, first name free on the side print You "up next" like a dentist visit, all fear, little drill, big gossip I step in, every chair start lockin, every light in the hall turn toxic I make a mic cord feel like a choke chain, wrap twice, hug that logic Words crawl out of my lungs like roaches out the oven, heat make ‘em gothic Your whole style airbrushed abs on a T-shirt, tough in a souvenir stand My whole style bear-trap mouth on a preacher, bite through the choir in the same chant You write captions, I write captains, put ‘em on a plank for a pageant Drop one verse, your label need therapy dogs and a damage assessment packet I’m the voice that your favorite hears when he doubt his own draft, I’m the ghost edit Cross every dream out the docket, leave his notebooks lookin like a vote ballot shred You built tough tweets, weak lungs, can’t breathe on a beat this hectic I benchpress pressure, reps of regret, curl competition like a cheap credit   Every bar like a steel-toe boot in a rib cage, echo in the hallway Every scheme like a staircase soaked in oil, each step is a long way I’ll drag your ego down twenty-two flights just to talk in the lobby Then toss your album off the roof so your fans get acquainted with gravity