Lyrics:
this boy I'm really funna live
Lil' headshot leave him dead with that red dot
Headshot that's a scope and the rest I buy
You ain't even living like
the day he come
I can't praise his name enough
With a thousand tongues
I know that on the day he pull up
You can not run
So I'm not afraid to live when its
Better know what it'll cost ya, 16 ounces of pasta
Big buds like a Rasta, run in my house and I'll pop ya, won't tie me up like it's Shottas
Y'all
shit popper
Spark my trees and wake the whole house
Like it's a pot of Folgers
Movin' like and army platoon, lots of soldiers
M-16's aimed above yo
the caulk
I gotta glock 10 that hold 15 but if I cock it back then that's 16
I called 16 to drop 16 and if a nigga play then that's 16
I'm on this bitch hard
dodge that, left right left now he's-)
Live for the money
Die by the gun
One fucking dead
Another pussy runs
You're too worried 'bout another persons
Trying to puncture on my life by filling up my lungs
The shit you call air, but I call it death
'Cause it makes me choke and lose my breath
My toes
call me top celebrity
Me bigga me badda mad hatta me callin it well and dead-ly
Me nah got no nine millimeter, me not want ya uzi
But I kill run
I touch mic, I only speak truth
Run when you hear the dogs go "Woof, Woof"
Don't care if he's a 12 year old youth
Go on then, go on then, jump
Bitch!
What time is it? Yo, I don't give a fuck where you lay at, nigga, it's
time to slay these bitch-made niggas.
[Bizzy: Pac Pac run with us, run
the machine
give the boy a sling and an M16
fill his magazine and them put him on a team
run 1,000 miles till he's super fucking lean
A War for hearts
Another year gone by
You sick of being alive?
Well I'm dead and so am I
This time shit's different
I don't know why
My arrival wasn't greeted 'cause
the rich
Five, only strong will survive
Four, 'cause we live by the sword
Three, plus sixty degrees
Two, for the black and the blue
One, for the sun,
weren't nice round here, so we don't play by the rules
Please dead that, dead talk on your dead apps
Or I'll send my dawg to go fetch that
Ride out in jet
(Yeah, yeah, Neeko you made that motherfuckin' beat?)
(Ah nah, you ain't made that motherfucker)
Bitch I'm back from the dead like I'm Freddy (heh)
here anymore
You abandoned me
Love don't live here anymore
Shawty 16, fucking everything moving
Got raped by her step-dad, he told her "Just do it"
blues, the only test you pass is positive
He on baby mama 5, a whole generation of twattlers bitch
I said twat, cus like offspring, like father
You a dead
like no nigga gon catch
Me while I'm tipsy
Niggas pass the bridge then he dead stock
Lil nigga, camera by the red box
He paralyzed a nigga now he can't
They want me dead, they want me dead
I'm hanging by a thread
Hanging by a single thread
Anxiety deception I've been mislead
There's nowhere to run
Like you cooked in foil
Niggas be wanting you dead no we don’t fuck with feds
Yeah bro
They only hate cause we blessed they hanging on by a thread
Yeah
on the scene actions were suicidal
as we welcome a new arrival of a newer rival got to run dropped in the gas
coppas are rocking and oxygen masks
I'm plotting
a diss, track, bitches better run you know I kill in the mic for fun dead or Alive
I’m doing this one...for all the fallen soldiers man
All the real niggas dead and gone
Y’all go forever live on
Yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
112263
Lyrics and Music by Andrew Weiss
16 and a half centuries to go, and where it goes, nobody knows
I was punished for being born twice, and I
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