Lyrics:
They say that I’m nasty
They Say that I’m crazy
They say that I’m wack see
But they still go and play me
Yeah my haters they made me
I Guess I
to convince myself that I'm alive
And try to shake the clutches of my slumber
Out these crusty eyes
That Gypsy Blood runs black through all these scarred-up
of blow
Rhymin' Deniro dough
Dundalero yo
Let the steel blow
Hear me yo, wild trump style
Dons connect three hundred ones wow
Floatin' like
Mic check, mic check
One (one), two (two), three (three)
Too many rappers, and there's still not enough MCs
It goes three (three), two (two),
on the rocks patrón by the shot
And you know we got a gang of three
(eh, yeah) rolling to the back
That's where we be at
And you know I got your bitch on me
(eh,
stupidity
By the way, you gangsters should know
One of your victims was a three-year-old girl
Well, you gang members, you
Still don't get it, do ya?
(With
the homies, that's on me
24/7, Kendrick reppin' these cold streets
Don't we live by it, die by it, then reincarnate
And if Game told me, "Drive by it," I
to the mortuary
Night time falls the motherfuckin' streets ain't safe
At the fuckin' club the jackers run the place
But I gotta do what I gotta do like Manson
This is glass grade
You got
Apocalypse
Jesus, you got crystals in here two inches, three inches long
This is pure glass
You're a goddamn artist
H.C
puzzled eyes
Then he closed the gaps between us, lips inches away
Suddenly love struck me down
My knees hit the ground
He loved me back
Like it was
to know I'm runnin my momma crazy
Remember the nights me sittin' up in a cold cell
I'm wakin' you up out of your sleep, it's me callin' you from jail
You
Every night i ask ma self if i'm goin to hell
I can't tell, i barely could get up if i fell
I can't spell, i can't even speak that well
I can't yell,
And all that time that 187 was on my mind
Shot the man in cold blood
And I knew his momma saw the drive-by
Design, and there ain't no tv until you see
fuck it make it three
It's just me fuck is competition nowhere I can see
Only family got my dawg back but can't call me a flea
Ain't no blood sucker for
Yeah i‘mma see you tonight babe
See you tonight babe see you tonight babe
Night babe tonight tonight tonight
Tonight tonight-night
Oh hey nice
Feasting on the Blood of the Insane by Six feet Under
Reekomposer vocals by Tony Reviere and Joe Benson
In the dark of the night I search for
Get it in double like Dutch (Dutch)
3 Seconds left on the clock (Brr)
Caesar about to go clutch (Swish)
You got yo game from the docs (Docs)
I got my
Street life so crazy nigga play by the rules
Can't blame nobody either win or you loose
Paranoid everyday but we still keep it cool
Ready to pay
rd and inches, now I'm 4th and 3
Cause I'm back tracking on account of these
Memories
Deja vu said, "Hey do you remember me?"
I'm being held hostage to all this
of the trill ass niggas
Verse 3: (Bullet)
Livin' uptown you got's to flight
Get down and take it like
High School ?????
And I'll be finish over night
28
guess I'm really done
So now 3 months later
A rainy night in October
It’s coming up to Halloween but today? This bitch is done for!
Turns out she was
crazy, a bottle of something nice
And enough trees to last the night
Because it's 'bout to be
A long night
Long night
'Cause lately all I've been
night night
I'm not like those other guys
Cause the full moon makes me go crazy
Then I probably start changin
Skin suit rips off when I'm ragin
Cause I'm
bitches, why Blood?
No ki, sucker free, eastside, LB
Dog's Angels, simply keeps the CP3
Being, the quick clip from the
Twitch of my hips
Gotta line dog nigga
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