"Living Room Trappin" - DJ DADA

Slow Flow, Solo, Young, Stoner Beat, West Coast Rap, Clear Voice, Rhythm, Intense Bass, Long Bass, Bass, Bass Driven

[Intro]
DJ DADA! I'm back on the track!

[Intro]
Man this beat is fuckin' crunchy Dada.
This shit startin' to kick in man.
I don't know if I can fuckin' make it dog.
Ay yo, Roll anotha' one up.

[Verse 1]
This that sticky icky. That sticky fuckin' icky.
Enough to make ya brain get trippy.
Gettin' lifted, just met a ho named Vicky.
You know I spit this game until she gave up the quickie.
She insisted that I cock back aim, and blast her with the sticky.
Her man was in the other room, had to keep it quiet, shit was gettin' tricky.
Gave it to her so good, she still wanna get risky.
Had to drop the bitch though, she startin' to act Mickey.
Done with the ho, walkin' back in the party. When you know I look and see Nikki.
She told me that she picky, but in theory, ya boy knows that she wanna get busy.
Roll anotha' blunt. keepin' it goin is key.
Breakin' down this weed.
Shit so sticky, I'm finna roll it fat indeed.
Gettin' lit will be guaranteed
Now I'm so fuckin' high,
Losin' my fuckin' mind.

Where the fuck did my lighter go.
Man I know you pocket that shit.
Ah shit, it's in my fuckin' hand,
God damn.

[Verse 2]
Just grinded up anotha' twenty nugs.
Eyes feelin' like they full of bugs.
They droopin' lower than my g.p.a.
Brain waves startin' to delay.
Keep rollin' blunts back to back,
Already blew three packs of blacks.
Losin' track of all my fuckin' stacks.
All this weed to fuckin' pack.
Where the fuckin' snacks.
Shake all over my fuckin' plaques.
Living room lookin' like the fuckin' Trap.
Might be gettin' smacked but you know I never fuckin' slack.
Supplies gettin' low gotta make another run mane.
Headin' back to the liquor store again.
Two Forty's, another pack of blacks, and a fifth of Hen,
Car boxed as fuck, it's hard to pretend.
Just came back to the crib with a q.p. sack.  Bouta roll up and transcend.

Ahhhhhh shit.
There it is.
My fuckin' lighter again.
How many times you gunna fuckin' run off man.
I don't even remember my next fuckin' line.
I don't even remember my previous line...
Fuck this rap, light that blunt and you know DJ Dada slaps!

2076/7500

[Intro] DJ DADA! I'm back on the track! [Intro] Man this beat is fuckin' crunchy Dada. This shit startin' to kick in man. I don't know if I can fuckin' make it dog. Ay yo, Roll anotha' one up. [Verse 1] This that sticky icky. That sticky fuckin' icky. Enough to make ya brain get trippy. Gettin' lifted, just met a ho named Vicky. You know I spit this game until she gave up the quickie. She insisted that I cock back aim, and blast her with the sticky. Her man was in the other room, had to keep it quiet, shit was gettin' tricky. Gave it to her so good, she still wanna get risky. Had to drop the bitch though, she startin' to act Mickey. Done with the ho, walkin' back in the party. When you know I look and see Nikki. She told me that she picky, but in theory, ya boy knows that she wanna get busy. Roll anotha' blunt. keepin' it goin is key. Breakin' down this weed. Shit so sticky, I'm finna roll it fat indeed. Gettin' lit will be guaranteed Now I'm so fuckin' high, Losin' my fuckin' mind. Where the fuck did my lighter go. Man I know you pocket that shit. Ah shit, it's in my fuckin' hand, God damn. [Verse 2] Just grinded up anotha' twenty nugs. Eyes feelin' like they full of bugs. They droopin' lower than my g.p.a. Brain waves startin' to delay. Keep rollin' blunts back to back, Already blew three packs of blacks. Losin' track of all my fuckin' stacks. All this weed to fuckin' pack. Where the fuckin' snacks. Shake all over my fuckin' plaques. Living room lookin' like the fuckin' Trap. Might be gettin' smacked but you know I never fuckin' slack. Supplies gettin' low gotta make another run mane. Headin' back to the liquor store again. Two Forty's, another pack of blacks, and a fifth of Hen, Car boxed as fuck, it's hard to pretend. Just came back to the crib with a q.p. sack. Bouta roll up and transcend. Ahhhhhh shit. There it is. My fuckin' lighter again. How many times you gunna fuckin' run off man. I don't even remember my next fuckin' line. I don't even remember my previous line... Fuck this rap, light that blunt and you know DJ Dada slaps!

0/500