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lirik lagu diverse – trippy tyler

(verse 1: trip)
i ain’t rich i’m broke
so speak for meson-ope
since you’re weak within you wrote
with amnesia i’m bringing either flows
eatin foes like anxiety for meson-ope
teach a foe how tyler be writting heat like he’s a pro
pane spitta
that go fang witta
dope vein getting
close range dismember
every lane switcher
to stay in your same picture
just saying your lame with that
betraying the fake figure
you can take that fake sh-t
with some weights taped to your face
then base jump in a lake quick
i’m waitin for satan to say something blatant
or claim he’s gonna take my soul and exchange it
rearrange his goals take his whole game and f-cking change it
my soul laced with greatness and bold hatred for fake sh-t and b-tch you fake like takin hits and not inhalin
or raging when i’m on the stage but you don’t know what i be sayin

(verse 2: trip)
when i rap my colors tie dye
yours is probably grey or somethin lame
let’s tie dye yours
open your brain with no restraints
let them ties dye boy
i’m ashamed you’re still a lame and your mind’s minor
yeah i’m white but when i rap my colors tie dye
yours is probably grey or something lame
let’s tie dye yours
open your brain with no restraints
let them ties dye boy
i’m ashamed you’re still a lame and your mind’s minor
my mind is ginormous
like a tour bus or a fat wh0r- sl-t after smashin four, four full-course lunches
you know i run this
rap game hurdle
every time they raise the bar i still jump it

(verse 3: trip)
stay diverse or your career will die first
got a page full of k!ller bars and called it diverse
stay diverse or your career will die first
got a page full of k!ller bars and called it diverse
i’m talkin heavy-weight bars b-tter bean up in a booth
i got heavy-weight bars b-tterfingers plus a few tons
rap games new son
eatin all these stale rappers like a plate of croutons
young issac newton
might have a motherf-ckin brain blast
young jimmy newtron
the cake is lit so take a wish and pray for this
soulful hated kid to aim his vocal rage and clip outta the local sp-ce you in
knowledge from america artillery from russia
call these kicks and snares my serenity to others
college wasn’t there so my criteria was f-ck-up
now i’m falling down the stairs with some henny and a rubber for your mother
won’t stop rapping ’til i’m sunned-up
won’t stop rapping ’til the sun-up
now my life is always dark like i’m under a cloud of thunder that rumble like the wu-tang k!ller bees when they f-cking buckle
meth took my men lotta friends from the gutters
jizzin on your b-tches kisser d-ck up in her b-tter
rza to your wrist
when i spit a bunch of notes
ay to get a ghost face k!llah when it comes to rap pages
see broi know this sl-t
she blow me til i stick up

- trippy tyler

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