Hollywood Undead - Trap God

(Yeah) (Smoke 'em if you got 'em, motherfuckers) (Undead gang, gang, gang) (Now, go tell everybody that hate us, yeah) I got these fucking habits; if it's green, just let me have it Watch 'em run, jackrabbits, .44, just let me pack it Yeah, that dove and that grenade, renegades of the game Check your pulse, motherfucker, no, we are not the same 'Cause we can chop-chop all that white up in the chop shop Dumping out the drop top, got these bitches jumping, hopscotch Trap gods, and we got everything you'll ever need That's 818, that's 310, 405, that's 323 Burn it down 'Til it's raining embers and ashes fall down to the ground 'Til it's raining embers and ashes fall down to the ground Like a real rockstar I'm a real trap god Like a real rockstar Burn it down, light 'em up, I'm a real trap god Like a real rockstar I'm a real trap god Like a real rockstar Burn it down, light 'em up, I'm a real trap god It's going down like Skynyrd's plane, i-in a pain It's painted black, this ain't a act to entertain Category six, lo-love is disastrous Pouring gasoline, light up the matches Question everything, don't trust a smile This is FM radio, don't touch that fucking dial Burn it down 'Til it's raining embers and ashes fall down to the ground 'Til it's raining embers and ashes fall down to the ground Like a real rockstar I'm a real trap god Like a real rockstar Burn it down, light 'em up, I'm a real trap god Like a real rockstar I'm a real trap god Like a real rockstar Burn it down, light 'em up, I'm a real trap god So, re-up and blast off 'cause we never act soft Get beat up and slapboxed 'cause I'll break that ass off Yeah, we keep this block hot, so, run when we pop shots We heat up this hotbox and pray to the trap gods Like a real rockstar I'm a real trap god Like a real rockstar Burn it down, light 'em up, I'm a real trap god Like a real rockstar I'm a real trap god Like a real rockstar Burn it down, light 'em up, I'm a real trap god