No Vendo Trap

I'm not trap, I don't sell drugs
I'm not trap, I wasn't born in Detroit
I don't mix the lean, I make alcohol mixes
He who talks about the trap, fell into the trap

I can't sleep, I need more pills
Dreaming about her ass in animal print
You can't imagine that I'm a machine
I don't want the fame, I come for the miss

Days of waste, nights without sleep
Moby Dick in my pocket rolling that shit
I want to sound in cars like AC/DC
At 300 in my Porsche Carrera GT

First of the roster, I'm the MVP
This is my sport, they have to leave
To live off this, that's why I was born
I live the dog life and you guys are bitches

They talk just to talk without knowing what to say
They are far from my position and very close to the click
Give me another like, I want to go up
Sound on iTunes and on YouTube - hot this week

The 90's are gone, I don't want to lie
They can cry, but I'm going to laugh
We have to innovate, that's the joke, my friend
They are not Das EFX, I'm not Yung Lean either

Sad boys of the future in the year 2000
Playing without cards and with a poker face
They call me fake and don't know about me
My life in music is the realest thing I've seen

My life is out of control
Now my lips are touching the anti-pop
That love shit is for two
And with me, we are 3, I can't get rid of my other self

I traded your kisses for another bottle of rum
Now it's her to whom I apologize
It ends up in nothing like every argument
You start crying, I'm writing another song

Without a rockstar life
In ruins, just broke up
Change the sneakers, not the outfit
Change the place, not the friends

Always more sales than purchases
It's no longer pride, now it's honor
Looking for my Natalie Portman
Playing like Pippen in Portland

Always living in the shadow and everyone notices me
They think I'm an idiot, my name came out of their mouths
My silence is not worth 10 rocks, nor is their love a crazy lifetime
This fool tempts me so much, but I'm tired of these things

I'm in charge, without being armed
Pablo Escobar offering rap, building sticks
Smoking bad weed with good trap on the stick
Looking at the panorama, how they are given away
A good first song, I don't see it anywhere
Less trying to be it and more feeling it, brother
They are out of the game, I would say ahead
A thousand meters away but on the other side

When my homies smoke, shit goes crazy
I won't share with you if I have little
I've seen them around acting foolish
They want to rise but copying o