Lyrics:
ain't here no more
Dehydrated by the bullshit, swear to God I can't drop tips no more
I peek shit, got a eye of a tiger, my heart is tough as a lion
If
the one who The Reaper chose
Time never slows
Head filled with woes
Surrounded by some crows
Demons in thirteen rows
Thirteen rows of snow
On my phone
using a mirror
You can't bite your own teeth
You can't taste your own tongue
And you can't touch the tip of this finger with the tip of this finger
From the rawest to the raw
To the slug through your door
They missed you but pressed your bitch
In a hollow tip bra
There's science to the way we move
Eagle bullets same size as a pickle (straight up)
We kill all the opps, and then we fuck all they sisters (on God)
All the guns I own got hollow tips in
Followed by a swirl I do my thing I check the list off
Power to the brink I'm bout to risk it all
Curling to the curve leaving ink from buzz to tip off
I'm leavin' it
Out his neck have 'em dead by the evenin'
And yo wallet, yo pockets I'm keepin' em
Bend that corner that choppa gone poke em
Hollow tips
bloody fists, oh bitch
Sold my soul to Hades
For a Glock and 20 hollow tips
Hollow witch, ick, made a stitch
Creeping in your mirror bitch
83 plus 40k
like Christmas carols
Empty out the fucking clip
That's thirty something hollow tips
Grab the pistol by the barrel
And beat you with the mother fucking
Desire to return to the beginning at nothing
Chrome and lead, fiery breath
Chipped porcelain and smoldering embers
Hollow tips in mind off the top of my
shit ain't hard
I just want a Hellcat, take the logo off
All you niggas hell racks, boy you hell soft
Hollow tips, hit his head top, take his mental off
Hollow tips they just to rip you
Laser so he still a hit you
Yeah this ain't no mourning
So my niggas they a never miss you
Bombing shit just like
Trappin' in this trap, cold hearted guns that'll kill ya
Smith and Wesson hollow tips, shredder mayne that'll drill ya
How it goes in this gutta, how it
I creep up with them hollow tips in loaded clips supposedly
Yeah, I hate everything, uh
I hate everythang you ever made, should've stayed in yo lane,
to tell my ex bitch so long
Tried to force me into stressing
That money keep on stretching
Restore the clip with some hollow tips
Don't know why I'm even
Pull up in a foreign whip
Balling since college, no scholarship
I need a nine millimetre with them hollow tips
Tryna make em drop like Ziddy on his
to the game life was Dark like a silhouette
But you caught case hollow tips to the homies head 24 to life thinking you will never live again
You got a purpose
a bitch
I'm boutta wake up all the folks
Boutta make that boy a lick
Walk down boutta hit em
Chops out finna get em
Hitting him with a hollow
Hollow tip
my name on the motherfuckin' hollow tip
A autograph from the nigga, killer, lunatic
Thirteen for the birdy, fuckin' him in the game
When I get my
shooter until he met that crazy muthafucka Mr. Ruger
Now ruger was a pimp too, He had his own hoes
Mrs Hollow Tip and Neener who wore ho?ish clothes
a cassette
yes, gangsta shit to the fullest
hollow tip bullets through yo chest
had to dismiss a lot of fake niggas
juss to make scrilla
the industry be tryin
jugging got work You gon buy
Run it up now the piece of the pie
Took my dawg so you know had to slide
Big Nintendo that P45
Hollow tips in that clip 45
alone I'm seeing all black
Ride with a K ride with a MAC
Go to bank bitch I just laugh
Hollow tips hit you from the neck and back
changing still the same dude
These hollow tips a hit his pocket, bet these bullets really change you
Don't need no yes man by my side, I need somebody who
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