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Trauma Lyrics by Jay Jones

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[Verse 1: Jay Jones]
Shit, I never wanted hand-outs
I said I'ma take the man route
Went from staying in Gram's house
Got bread to get the fam out
I tried to get away but the streets got me
I'm in the trenches, I could be on the beach probably
But Lord knows
Ready for smoke, go grab the black bag, ain't doin' that bad
They say I never seen a rap check, fuck history
I never failed a math test
Bullets can't even hit a G, I guess you say I'm that blessed
Section 8, like the projects
Soak in it, let it digest
Started off with weed and I graduated pyrex
Roll it up in a leaf, that's my relief, along with Hi-Tec
Got niggas on the street, I'm wondering how they ain't die yet
Shit, cause shit ain't the same, nigga
So watch where you hang, nigga
Don't get your ass in trouble
You thought life was a game, nigga?
I did this off the muscle
Me and you not the same, nigga
Same hittas, turn your fitted cap to a drop-top, brain missing
South Beach, I got a Cuban bitch from Jermaine, nigga
Plug daughter, I might just flood the streets with the 'caine, nigga
Times hard, but you know sun gon' shine after rain, nigga
Never [?] eventually they gon' change, nigga
Bang, don't like to talk about it
I get to thinking they won't put shit in a coffin 'bout it
Go Vietnam, invest in bombs and start war about it
Murder your moms, ignore the lines cause we gon' cross them out quick
Shit, you live by the gun, you die by the gun
I get so high, I just said hi to the sun
I told my girl we need to have a lil' son
Ain't giving up until the battle is done
Don't give a fuck because I feel like I won

[Verse 2: Curren$y]
City small, so the wrist big
I went through a shit storm, but I'm still here
I just slid through the door before that bitch closed
And then attached a C4, blew it off the hinge
Bitch, let my homies in
Dig this, niggas ain't slick, I'm on it
We talking 'bout how to fix you this morning
That cake baked, nigga just wait
I'm on skates, Dayton's on my Chevrolet
New Impalas every dates
Niggas dying everyday
This New Orleans, what's new?
Be cool, 'fore the next robbery right here be about you
They shook
Rap cappers, no hooks, behind back passes
Alley-Oops, no looks
We all on the scoreboard, we All-Stars, like Chuck Taylor's
Racing Lamborghini's with soccer players
Off season in Brazil, cheefin'
Eastside to your side, it ain't easy
Credits

About “Trauma” by Jay Jones

Read the complete lyrics to "Trauma" by Jay Jones. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rap.

"Trauma" is performed by Jay Jones. This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL. Music lyrics help listeners connect with emotion, narrative, and rhythm in a track. Whether you are learning English, researching a favorite chorus, or preparing for karaoke, having accurate line breaks and section labels (verse, chorus, bridge) makes the experience easier. We link to the official artist profile on Lyrks where available, including biography snippets, top songs, and chart placements when we have that data. If you enjoy "Trauma", explore more songs by Jay Jones using the links below. Chart and trending pages on Lyrks highlight what listeners are searching for this week. For copyright or correction requests, see our DMCA and contact pages.

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Frequently asked questions

"Trauma" is credited to Jay Jones. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.

Album information for "Trauma" is not available in our database yet. You can still read the full lyrics on this page.

Visit the Jay Jones artist page at /artist/jay-jones for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.


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