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God of Barz

by Tru Trilla

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Hook 1  repeat twice  Society try to write us off  And used propaganda  To right they wrongs  When the real spoke up It raised the bar high frequency  Lyrics you heard the word of god  We conversant over baked salmon  Figure out more ways to keep  Cake pilling  Peep the hate from the fake smiling  Doing the hate challenge when u in Their face it’s love they stay silent  Slithering in the snake hours make a mistake you dissappear trying to take ours watch who you  face timing on the phone dialing peace king you know the routine  move in silence the rest telling  on their self social media wilding  plus it's more of us on the bus the jails over crowded  most  politican is crooks or cowards  you ain't for the people that's what  the crowd shout it  hook 2 repeat it twice  Society try to write us off  And used propaganda  To right they wrongs  When the real spoke up It raised the bar high frequency  Lyrics you heard the word of god verse 2  once was loyal now the money gone  they turn snakes for the papes  veterans colluding with snakes  cosigning wack music for extra food  on the plate just because we don't  do it or approved it they claimed we hate what a disgrace these lames hide the truth  in their face the drugs was yours eight co-d's on the case you should of own up to it  but you took it to trial the prosecutor smile they knew it as soon as you blew it   you'll be gone for a while  plus you took the block down you used  to be thug now they call you cop now  see the tables done turned  it was right in your face you wasn't  able to learn  hook 4 Society try to write us off  And used propaganda  To right they wrongs  When the real spoke up It raised the bar high frequency  Lyrics you heard the word of god
3.
Verse 1 Tru Trilla Block huggers Spot rushers Your face gushing the blade cut ya Pen touch paper spontaneous combustion Get you now or later kill your assumptions Crucify your favors murder your doubts Smack blood out your savior knocked you out in front of your spouse Get woke up put to sleep slapped out Act out 18 shots shoot up your trap house No hand shakes no daps out Big gun in your face he passed out Pat your pockets get the cash out These rappers garbage take the trash out Hook This that real rap y’all real wack All that mumbo jumbo we don’t feel that Take it how you take it all that noise we kill that This is history in the making bring the feeling back 2nd verse Prince Ak These deejays gaming Shit that they playing is sounding pitiful Ain’t heard nothing lyrical Bars nasty venereal No Percocet or Roxy I spit vitamins minerals It’s Brick City talk NJ a 0-50 general Content straight drop block work material My flow is immaculate my voice is imperial Section 8 flow rice check wick cereal Everything literal genetics track back to Israel Brain like a elephant charismatic and heaven sent I stay hella bent shit they spit be irrelevant My style eloquent underground while they elegant And deejays part of the problem it’s all evident Hook 2 This that real rap y’all real wack All that mumbo jumbo we don’t feel that Take it how you take it all that noise we kill that This is history in the making bring the feeling back
4.
Hook  They can’t stop us they can’t get us  You could follow all you want  Get clapped you ain’t with us  Yea they rap but they ain’t spitters  Talk that hustle same pack  y’all ain’t finish  These wack azz rappers is corn balls Two years later more faker they fall off  Organize chaos supreme rap order  Murder saince piss in your tap water  The left jab abbreviate you nose from  Your face the right hook will punch your  Bone right back in place I do you dirty  In that order it’s that 05 you could lose  A organ  your face hold five two bullet holes in your Jordan’s What’s important your music or the people  Who ain’t supporting is you selling or you snorting you with the gang or they extorting  you get the whole stash  Of the bag or a small portion  You just hoe for the corporate eyes open wide  Playing dead in a coffin not to many ever make out often doctors over your chest screaming out  We lost him playing around it cost him can souped sauce  Hook  They can’t stop us they can’t get us  You could follow all you want  Get clapped you ain’t with us  Yea they rap but they ain’t spitters  Talk that hustle same pack y’all ain’t finish  Fuck your shoes on your car  You could die in your socks  With name brand clothes on  Two holes in your knot  I guess you fresh to death  Or just a hot mess Left for death  One week you’ll rot yea the mag is out  Toe is up tag is out no need to push him  You could dragged him out blabber mouth  Don’t know what they blab about while  Your heart still beating I could grab it out Just poke you in the chest and stabbed it out  Fake king pins get uppercut Your knees bend  Body shot buckled loose breath you need wind Automatic rifles at door we ease in now  You on floor holding jaw bleeding yea the chick  Told us the spot you be in the two stash house  Plus the time You meeting rapped him up tie him up tight throw His Punk ass off in the deep in  Hook  They can’t stop us they can’t get us  You could follow all you want  Get clapped you ain’t with us  Yea they rap but they ain’t spitters  Talk that hustle same pack y’all ain’t finish 
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Hook 1  We beat rappers up  Y’all rappers suck  Running outta of time  Better rap it up  No speaking No dapping up  Y’all had y’all little shine  Now that’s enough  Verse 1 Tru Trilla  Hip-hop War lords road warriors gladiators on stage we kill the audience  Barz track you down blow up your corridor From Newark to Florida cross the map all around  Follow tip rap formula compound By the grams u could sale it whole sale  Or hand to hand its the lyrical content that's dope no chemical enhanced  To manipulate the hoax  The explosive impact knock  Feathers out your coat Drag the unloyal for blocks Rope tied around throats Early morning bakers  Who need bread by the loafs Canolope hayz already rolled lets smoke metal face like destro Hook 2 We beat rappers up  Y’all rappers suck  Running outta of time  Better rap it up  No speaking No dapping up  Y’all had y’all little shine  Now that’s enough  Verse 2 Fly Kwa The flow is undeniable  Whoever chose to tell you you're nice them fools lied to you  Everytime I’m riding thru the music just knock hard Throw the V in 6th gear speed pass cop cars Never been the type of dude riding on coattails  Playing the block hard or relying on coke sales I just be cool like the food in ya deep freezer Get money and move down south where the rents cheaper I’m from a hood known for stolen cars  Hustling on the block day and night that was ya only job It’s only Kwa doing what I do I ain’t taking no chances I just watch how dudes move snakes like Cobra Commander Hook 3 We beat rappers up  Y’all rappers suck  Running outta of time  Better rap it up  No speaking No dapping up  Y’all had y’all little shine  Now that’s enough  Verse 3 Confucious  Middle finger up to the government  I’m still cooking up with no oven mitts  Getting this bread theirs a couple option  I’m hands on like bare knuckle boxing  Emcee’s get destroyed by the thousands  The booth got a sign on it  Only real spitters allowed in  True knowledge is base off experience  Trial and error is base off experiments  No chemistry class no laboratory jackets  Barz lyric word play  Every paragraph vocabulary active If I don’t punch in the face my barz can  Won’t see me coming I’m Zartan  Hook  We beat rappers up  Y’all rappers suck  Running outta of time  Better rap it up  No speaking No dapping up  Y’all had y’all little shine  Now that’s enough 
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Verse 1 I send signals that’ll crash your spaceship Your bars not heavy they petty and weightless Brake jaws God of Bars I weight lift What’s yours is now ours for the cause I take shit Never behind your back right in front of your face bitch Beat rappers up out of luck who shape shift Hating on the low want to know with that snake shit T Trilla hang with gorillas and ape pricks Never run walk through the jungle and shake shit You ain’t gotta like it but respect it and face it Fuck your mammy understand me I’m nothing to play with My work flow effort flow epic when laced it Your tunes ain’t loony style is basic Raised the deficit moves move so effortless Rappers is fruity and booty Tyson Beford shit No fruit of balloons these coons wearing leopard prints Hook 1 You know they don’t rap you know they don’t rhyme Everybody a rapper spitting ghost writers lines They never sold crack stack a thousand at a time Everybody a kingpin, somebody lying Verse 2 Yeah y’all rapping with no feeling Online hustlers claiming you dope dealing Clumsy hustlers you wondering who squealing Bars is scarred for life with no healing They never figure it out til they slammed on their heads And dud their cigarette out without a doubt We don’t trap house we snap out and black out Aiming the strap out now get the stash out dog God Anubis your rhymes is foolish Send a virus that’ll blue screen all your computers Hack your shooters they turn on their rulers Blast your medulla forgot the password you need a new user Tru magnetic your flow need clothes Your rhymes is half naked booty lyrics on ass records No style profile you half stepping Clown sit down and just take this ass whooping Hook 2 You know they ain’t strapped your bullets ain’t flying Everybody a gangster, only online You don’t talk facts you know y’all be lying As soon as the fed come the whole block doing time
11.

about

Brick City’s lyrical marksman Tru Trilla brings the noise and then some on the new explosive hip hop album “God of Barz”.

From the State that brought us Wu Tang, Rah Digga and Ice-T, the New Jersey rapper and long term affiliate of Naughty by Nature and Lords of the Underground follows in their legendary footsteps with a heavy verbal artillery at his disposal delivering fierce bars and dexterous rhymes.

Raw and uncompromising, Tru continues to plant a flag for the Garden State. As part of the group 050 Boyz who derive their name from the area code, he enjoyed worldwide recognition and media coverage for the release of their “050 Everything” album in 2015 which culminated in guest appearances on Sirius Xm at the invitation of both DJ Eclipse and DJ Premier.

The new album however represents a broadening of horizons. There is an additional international dynamic with productions courtesy of Barcelona’s Sumerio Square and England’s Chat One, while Chicago’s DNA Beatz weighs in with a concoction of sounds drawing from both the classic and contemporary eras.

With the musical passport stamped, Tru returns home and calls on local hero Clinton Place (aka Jamal Nueve) for some further sonic gems. Now based in Los Angeles, the original tour DJ of Flavor Unit’s Supreme C delivers high on the quality scale as expected of someone who has produced for Ice Cube, Mack 10, Canibus, Rass Kass, Skyzoo, Yukmouth and Killah Priest.

Newark natives Middy Murdock, Fly Kwa, Confucious and fellow group member Prince Ak compliment Tru’s rhyme schemes as the album’s featured guest artists, intensifying the energy with their own distinctive flows and gritty lyricism.

Tru digs deep with the subject matter. His passionate bars are a war cry championing the cause of the underdog, the disengaged, the oppressed and the aspirational. Deploying the narrative of the inner city, venomous lines are spat out with indignant defiance in a wave of precision targeted salvos.

The political tensions of racial profiling, corruption, deprivation and equal opportunities are given equal billing to wider issues of survival hardwired into the psyche of the street. Tru’s dedication to the traditional ethos of hip hop is also evident throughout, and like a veteran prize fighter prowls the ring in pursuit of young pretenders with their current representations of the genre.

Amidst this raucous war of attrition are moments of pathos with Tru in more reflective mode, recounting his earlier life and personal journey through the years.

The eclectic productions feed the mood swings. The driving fuel injected intensity of “God’s Mercy” is contrasted by the stripped down percussive beat in “Fake Views”. Straight head nodders “Word of God” and “God of Barz” play off the upbeat funk laced through “In and Out”, while the bass heavy electro banger God’s Sympathy reaches inside, pulls out the soul and sends it back in pieces.

In essence, “God of Barz” reflects Tru’s earliest influences Rakim and Public Enemy – bold and rugged, it’s the harsh realities served with some hip hop sugar. Compelling listening, one for the ages.

credits

released August 31, 2020

Lyrics written and performed by Tru Trilla

Additional lyrics written and performed by :

Middy Murdock "God's Partical"
Prince Ak "Real Rap" and "Get it Going"
Fly Kwa "God's Sympathy"
Confucious "God's Sympathy"

Production by

Clinton Place (aka Jamal Nueve) "God's Partical", "Real Right" & "The Rebel"

DNA Beatz "Word of God", "God's Mercy", "God's Sympathy" & "God of Barz"

Sumerio Square "Real Rap" & "Get it Going"

Chat One "Fake Views" & "In and Out"

Copyright 2020 New Dawn Records. All rights reserved,

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about

Tru Trilla Newark, New Jersey

Brick City lyrical marksman. Solo artist and member of the group 050 Boyz.

Performed live as a guest on Sirius XM for both DJ Eclipse and DJ Premier.

Shared the stage with Black Thought, Common, Naughty by Nature, Ghostface Killah, Smif n Wessun and many more.

Associate of Naughty by Nature, Treach & Lakim Shabazz

Work with producers from New Jersey, Chicago, LA, Europe & UK

Hip Hop Warrior
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