its a must that i bust any strap you hand to me
its inherited it runs in the family nigga in the
town got pounds of beef threaten a niggas life
make it sound so sweet i peel em back like corn on
the cob cap pillem make em sound like a whore on
the job with a mak in the back pak hittin em off.
(bitch betta have my money, bitch where my money?)
sicmade till i die shit nobody saw so i was able
to wipe the bllod off the hall way walls i aint
got nothing to live for cant even trust a bitch
might have to leave her alone i had to dig a ditch
shit so rigoris dillin with haters,snitches,and
bitches get there brains gone find a new home, one
life is gone and im on one check the clock and if
these walls could talk mothafuckas would be shot
im bout to go 51/50 got nobody with my stressed
out like whitney,bobby brown,weed,and whisky
smoking newports no support by like to too short i
keep it going shootin up force who in the sport
wanna fuck with me cum on the courts rippin out
insides puttin stains on thangs thats when i ripin
ride and i slipn slide throught the gardens with a
bloody t-shirt it wont hurt look at it this way 6
ft deep in the dirt wont hurt flirtin with murda i
leave em un heard of and im sick of your period
pads drippin all over your hands getting in the
back seat of the truck its your choice dead or
alive smuthered and fried the way you betta
uncover yo eyes in in disguse witha 9 tryin to
take out yo spine nobdy no crime thro up that 6
sign and strike hard like a tek 9 no recovery you
other g niggas beta duck leave you in tuxed up
cycle off the wall like micheal always perinoid
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cause i be blowin out that nitro all day everyday
murder spray got you in glad bags headed frothe
pad you can ask my dad i was a scanvenger 14 yrs
old eating scabs graduated from nigga meat but i
dont wanna brag fuck jeffery dohmer hes a
mothafuckn fag i got nigga nuts and guts in a bag
draggin them to the pad. (zip lock,body bag,toe
tag,wet t-shirt,black mask)2x (corpse came to
dinner)repeat chorus 4 more x fuck under the
influence im hella fucked up swervin down the
freeway spillin my cup tryin to tell you bout this
rapper on the underbelly he aint shit he bout to
be in the trunk smelly by me and my relly you
never know whatever though i got automagazines and
that weak n-tro what you got against me dont you
know i rip niggas up turn them to minced meat so
if you got some since beat it like raw eggs i used
to have hella homies now they all hate but imma
leave it alone im on my own like a voodoo nigga if
a nigga wanted to get ate what would you do nigga
i was too cool with a group of niggas and they
tripped on me gave em a little nit of fame then
they dipped on me but you know its all in the game
tell a crip hommie to hit em with a slug at they
brain thats what you get from me crash dummie your
careers defected and you aint sold a record last
time i checked it you just keep knockn i fell
disrespected now yo neck got disconnected by the
lynch hung necklace ahh i leave emm red and dont
eat the head let the tek spi t and chop niggas
down to the ground like judge dred comeing through
the door looking just like the feds and you call
yo self a rap vet get out the bed and let me fuck
her like she should be fucked all in the butt with
a 9 milli swallowing nut and you can see me in
black clothes creepin from the back dont know how
to act black blankets full of macs i usem as nut
sacs and full body sacs bet not let yo daughter
out end up in the slaughter house chockin and
spittin chest open and bleedin and im fucking her
from the back and i hope that you see about it.
chorus |