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funeral

A funeral is a ceremony connected with the final disposition of a corpse, such as a burial or cremation, with the attendant observances. Funerary customs comprise the complex of beliefs and practices used by a culture to remember and respect the dead, from interment, to various monuments, prayers, and rituals undertaken in their honor. Customs vary between cultures and religious groups. Funerals have both normative and legal components. Common secular motivations for funerals include mourning the deceased, celebrating their life, and offering support and sympathy to the bereaved; additionally, funerals may have religious aspects that are intended to help the soul of the deceased reach the afterlife, resurrection or reincarnation. The funeral usually includes … more »

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(Oh shit) oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh (You think you know me)
Oh, oh, oh, oh

It's getting dark in this bitch
Shoot his heart in this bitch
I pray a motherfucker do me dirty
I'ma fart on that bitch
Choppa fart on that bitch
She put her heart on this dick
We ain't far, get it quick, I catch a case
Get acquitted boy, you ain't know what your
Bitch did, he talk, he can get hit
Motherfucker cry like a baby, boy
You better pay me, i'm out in a minute
I'm out as soon as I'm in it, stop talking
You ain't hit shit
Oh, it ain't nun' to get a
Bitch hit, it's a problem, we can fix it

My money so tall, it look like rocket
Look like space yeah
I don't like that bitch, I told
That bitch that I need space, yeah
I got a Glock and a Uzi, a rocket
A FN, it's all on my waist, yeah
I shoot that fucker in his face, yeah
He can gеt it like today, yeah

Oh, oh, oh, oh oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh oh, oh, oh, oh

My money so tall, it look likе rocket
Look like space yeah
I don't like that bitch, I told
That bitch that I need space, yeah
I got a Glock and a Uzi, a rocket
A FN, it's all on my waist, yeah
I shoot that fucker in his face, yeah
He can get it like today, yeah

Oh, he can get it like his bitch did
Man, I don't know what the dick did
I know lil' shorty addicted
We was really on some sick shit
We really be on some sick shit
She move them hands like a stick shift
Y'all was on it, but it shifted
Broke boy hit a lick quick
I took your bag, mine now, boy, I'm wicked
He look at me like, "How?"
It's some trick shit
His bitch on some trick shit
His mama on some trick shit
I seen them hoes trickin'

Oh, oh, oh, oh oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh oh, oh, oh, oh

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