Georgetown Press - Wale, Lightshow

This is a place where opportunities few

And niggas feud for land they’ll never own

Where they raise hell and waste shells

And duck baby mamas but rarely escape jail

This is the trap… the trap.

Death on my opposition, no

Them watchin' me blow is more than evening the score

And my team has a flow, ambition see the results

And to get to my spirit seeing twitpics of them diplomas, word

Cannot stress it, through God blessings we made it out

For the have-nots that have a knot to have knots

Hats off, we been working our ass off

And we all-stars that made the squad with the cap off

Steinbrenner, designed to make your dynasty weary

Sometimes I’m a dick, but you niggas placenta

And that’s the problem, it’s a problem, don’t dap me my nigga

Just tap me my nigga, then get at me my nigga

Man fuck a dappin' you rappers should get back off the fingers

Trust in God and you golden, trust in rap and you empty

Bust a mac and you gangster, that’s how them youngins livin'

Shout out that Georgetown Press they still trappin' the district

Blessings we made it out, blessings we made it out

They still trappin' the district

Trust in God and you golden, trust in rap and you empty

Blessings we made it out, blessings we made it out

Shout out that Georgetown Press they still trappin' the district

Lil nigga, but I’m Patrick Ewing on these blocks

My mac cold like Dikembe nigga, who need Glocks

These crooked cops keep tryin' steal the ball from me

But 'Le like Kevin Braswell with the rock

600 plus assists, plus this I must’nt miss

Hard work it comes with this?

That’s why I fuck with this

G set the fuckin' pick, I went straight to the hole

Went to college a day, dropped out went straight for my goals

Now it’s dough in my mattress, my bitch look like an actress

Cuz I studied the defense, and I stayed after practice

On my way to the league, only limit the sky

Still I show up to practice, I can’t end up A. I

Pay attention or miss it

Shout out to Georgetown but I won’t get trapped in the District, nah

Lightshow

Leader of the people who ain’t tryna be led

But I’mma get us all back if I can smile all year

I seen bums happy as anyone

Millionaires set for bread

Some be livin' for crumbs

Motherfuckers don’t fuck with us I still be showin' love

Cause if I was local and they was on it I’d be naah

Don’t trip off what a bitch say, shovel on a good day

All my youngins put up numbers just like Bubbachuck in kente

When we can’t hit the league we let the streets mislead and dictate

And there is no I in team, but can you read the eye on Vic’s Page

Otto Porter with all the water servin' the corners

Rayful callin' up 'Zo Mourning before the tourney

Servin' drugs, some us don’t make it out here

My niggas had some plugs, I gave 'em a better outlet

There’s a difference in words: hustle and trappin'

See hustlers find a way out, while the latter can’t climb up out it

The trap

Georgetown coach John Thompson made a personal appeal to Edmond to stay away

from his players.

He built this team into a national power, and now the specter

of a D.C. drug dealer in the age of crack, you know, well, that could have

destroyed everything