Professor Trap lyrics

[Intro]
Professor Trap is here to teach you n*ggas today

[Verse 1]
Y'all slicker than some soap
I'm sicker than if syphilis was chillin' in the Pope
I'm picking out these rappers, line 'em next to me and flow
If a n*gga can't keep up with me, then n*ggas get the pole, blaow!
Five-foot-five, still knock ya n*gga's face off
Call me Mickey Mantle, crackin' n*ggas like a baseball
pus*y n*ggas acting like they fast but never race, aw
I'ma do the dash, you better hide ya f*ckin' safe, dog, look
Gucci straight from Italy, I'm literally the greatest
These b*tches wanna bump me but they boyfriends always hatin'
I been on my grind like if my sneakers made for skating
Was walking through the valley of the shadow getting faded, uh
Picture Joey sitting on a sofa
Writing up a catalyst and sippin' on some soda
Purple gettin' crushed he's rolling up a bunch of doja
The next thing that you know, Airbnb account is over

[Interlude]
Airbnb deleted my account after I got caught hotboxing when I shot the music video for "Microwave"
I had to pay like five bands
f*ck Airbnb
Look
Uh, uh, look
[Verse 2]
A venue cannot book me 'less they know that I'ma smoke one
I'm analyzing pacifism, actually, there's no f*ck
City on my back, the f*ck they thought I was, a tow truck?
I need some more respect, you pus*y n*ggas can not show up
T-R-A, and yeah P is for the pistol on me
Plus she pop her pus*y like a pimple on me, ew
Joey prolly faded, n*gga, sippin' on a pill
Hate these n*ggas 'round, me no one else is ever real
Always need attention, that's way Joey gotta kill
I be on a kill streak bout to get a nuke, chill
Rest in piece to any beat I spit on
Recipe is melodies Akachi made to hit on
Body any beat so it's a murder, that's the sh*t, huh?
Gucci, Fendi, Prada not enough, let's hit a lick, uh
Professor Trap, you gotta teach these n*ggas
I should take attendance tryna reach these n*ggas
Bars is like a Xanax how they sleep on n*ggas
I be in a Audi, finna creep on n*ggas, nyoom
n*ggas get to snitchin' when you not around 'em
So my circle small just like the top on Johnson's Baby Powder
Talking bout the sh*t they really not about will get 'em grounded
Stupid n*ggas turn to some pussies, I'ma get 'em pounded
Over, over, over, over