Do you know what? The trap's still running, it's never turnin' off Different product, same hustle mentality The only difference is, you pay taxes on it and feds can't kick off your door (We put the trap in Entrapreneur) We was flyin' up O with white We was buildin' lines, now it's clothing lines I sell Tees and my darg tell Tees as well, but his ain't got no design One-eighty for the tracksuit, go somewhere else if it's overpriced New generation don't know how to trap 'Cause they all getting high off their own supply Trap house in the woods where the bando's haunted It's supernatural poltergeist Witnessed things that I wish that I didn't, like crackheads overdose then die Bad Bs curvin' the kid back then when I weren't so lit, I was broke dem times Bitch, would you ride on the back of the bus? What about on the front of a stolen bike? Soho pitchin' Coke to the gay men, I'll serve anyone I got a open mind No complaints when it comes to the customer service, I pick up the phone polite See man fall in love with the white, Billie Eilish, cuh they got ocean eyes Set-up a shop, then it's open twenty-four hours, we don't have a closing time We put the trap in the Entrapreneur All of the time that we spent in the field, woulda thought that I got me Ballon d'Or I'm stackin', I'm droppin' a bag in Dior Went from a Toyota Yaris to a Urus, I still got the same work rate as before Two years that I ain't been home, seven-hundred and thirty days on tour It was Nokia ringtones, pickin' up phones No private calls, now it's microphones I think that I got bipolar disorder The way I'm going through highs and lows Insta' full up of IG models and back in the days I would Skype these hoes My girl try hack my iCloud, when I log in, gotta hide my code Tryna get in through face recognition When I was asleep, when my eyes were closed, huh If she ain't got nothin' to hide Might make her my wife, yeah, I might propose How many lies got told? Don't believe in the hype, it's false Bro died, he was still in his teens The chance is slim of me dyin' old I won't lie, it's me or them Slime shit, I'ma wipe his nose I'm bankin' packs and touchin' feces, I was OT, you would find it gross Now it's five-star hotels, Michelin-star dinin', I might rise a toast New generation would die for clout They'll do anything for a viral post We put the trap in the Entrapreneur All of the time we spent in the field, woulda thought that I got me Ballon d'Or I'm stackin', I'm droppin' a bag in Dior Went from a Toyota Yaris to Urus, I still got the same work rate as before Two years that I ain't been home, seven-hundred and thirty days on tour