TRIFE DIESEL - Prey Vs. Predator lyrics

rate me

What the fuck, nigga

It's T.M.F. in the flesh, man

What up, baby, Tomahawk, Diesel

Yo, it's Kryme, all my life I've been thugging

Before niggas knew what it was or what it wasn't

Inherited the game, passed down by my cousins

Look, ain't no tears, when cutting up these onions

Look, nigga for years, I've been walking on these bunyons

Parked with the holy west, now we touring in London

From Stapleton to France, niggas do my dance

They call me, Bruisy Columbus, cause I take new land

I got the Nina, the Smithon and the Andy Garcia

Hit the corner with my hoodlums like they march in Korea

Niggas know we mean business, every time they see us

Ya'll a bunch of a lame niggas getting beat for your re-up

Can't hold us on the block, better get that D up

Tell a promoter bring the gwop, time to pay that fee up

We rock, all scenes got something to make 'em all lean

Come and get your dose of this T.M.F. morphine

How you want it, we sending you three hundred

It's prey vs. predator, hunt, or get hunted

No matter how you say it or write it, we be the nicest

No matter how you cook it or whip it, we gon' slice it

Uh, I am the prime example on how to grind and scramble

Put the fire to the whip when my pops provided the candle

Niggas rhyming over beats, see me, I'm riding the sample

Sorta like the Iron Sheik when he be riding his camels

On the couch, flick a few channels, while gripping the handle

Shedding tears, looking at my cousin's flick on the mantle

Conversating with his spirits, and it's telling me

Trife just keep writing them lyrics, cause fam, they gon' feel it

Took the clip out, and put the burner back in the stash

Grabbed the keys, hopped in the whip and went straight to the lab

Yo, fiend, twist some daquiri's up, let's start recording

Close the session, cause we ain't leaving until the morning

Heat the booth like global warming, if hell's calling

Tell the mormans, the God gon' strike without warning

The most high, AWOL like Sosa

Keep a toast close by, blow your wig with the four-five

Pistols, you fucking with a man with issues

Let it whistle, snatch your peacoat, and hit your tissue

Official, T.M.F., S.S. missile

We live the ritual, same old, same old, sick of you

Lame-o, one in the chamber, I let the flame go

Range Rove', pull up to the show, floating off angels

It's painful, the slums I'm from, alot of camel

Ain't no half stepping unless you came with your play shoes

Disgraceful, you hating ass niggas, want me to take food

Breakthrough, see what the fame and all that cake do?

That's why I'm grateful, kiss the sky, you ain't taking Whisp alive

Ditch the ride, switch the whip, no disguise

Mask off, rolling right pass the homicide

Blast off, six shooter spitting, the cannon fly

Three hundred niggas is with me and down to ride

Three hundred niggas is with me and down to ride, ride