Trigger Talk - Reef The Lost Cauze

Bloodsport

You wanna nigga play predator and hunt a nigga

You gonna kill who, nigga?

I will kill you

Easy to be brave from a distance, pussy

Rule number one better be busting your gun

Call my name and I’mma stand still

And wait for the aggressor, I’m better under pressure

Approach the perimeter, you maggot dinner

Yeah you fucking with the world’s top sinner, Bloodsport

I broke every commandment except one

I honoured my mother, protected her with a gun

I plays no games, the Uzi is sprayed

Your brains, just think of a head like a sprinkler

You can threaten me and Reef if you want to

Hunter becomes the hunted, the lions’ll hunt you

You nigga talk trigger talk, shit ain’t real

And you ain’t killing shit cause you don’t clap steel faggot

Trigger talk

Ease off the trigger talk

Ease off the trigger talk

You ain’t killing shit

Trigger talk

Ease off the trigger talk

Ease off the trigger talk

You ain’t killing shit

Reef the Lost Cauze

Yo kill the trigger talk and the gun jab

Here’s a fun fact, if I see you you’d run laps

Like a trackstar, peel off like Nascar

Me and Bloodsport the hood version of Blackstar

Break your arm, break it again before the cast’s off

You’re some kind of genius, do you work for NASA?

It’s not rocket science, I have the foulest tyrant

Crying, screaming, please stop the violence

Won’t win, me and Sport hunting you down like that bull in No Country For Old

Men

With that big thing stop talking shit man

Get your shit maimed when I click bang

Shit change in a split frame

You go from cool to shit stains walking with canes

It’s insane to keep on fronting like you busting

You fucker, you ain’t hurting nothing

Yo I see it in your eyes, you wouldn’t hurt a fly

And if I heard any different then I heard a lie

You ain’t a thug, you’re more like burger fries

Mop up the floor flunky, I swear to God I hope you die

I poke your eye with a blade that’s jagged

Somebody better save this faggot cause I swear I’ll trash him

Put him in gutters, it’s Guns and Butter

Lost Cauze, Bloodsport, now you’re all gonna suffer

Trust us, we leave you on crutches for that tough act

Send shots your way, you won’t bust back (nah never)

You’ll just duck that, run away, my homies be like fuck rap, fuck that

Don’t think you should rap, you’re too fucking special

Man somebody gonna test you, yeah somebody gonna check you

Watch what you say homie, I will catch you

And if not my nigga Sport won’t miss you