Lyrics:
bullets getting tossed
16 on your back like you fucking Jeff Goff
Your man acting girly too put 30 on his chest
Kanye shrug bitch, welcome to the west
at 16
Now I'm livin' in a pipe dream
Memories, my enemy
The past stay dead to me
Escape with coke or ketamine
Every horse makes gelatine
Old ways make
Words and music by Bob Hartman
Based on Proverbs 3:6, 1 Peter 5:8, Matthew 16:24
Smell the burning powder?
There's danger in the air
A voice from
Long live my deads[00:16.39]I be really in my head[00:18.23]Homicidal thoughts they read[00:19.93]Tryna spin and spin again[00:21.77]Aint no sun
heat.. drive-by with Rule
Poppin shots through the sun roof screamin' "Fuck You!"
[Ja Rule] (01)
Ya'll niggas wanna dead.. (who?)
Then wanna ride.. (who?)
Gotta strike me dead
If I let them swing me around
On a tune or live on a set
If I let them swing me around
Gotta strike me dead
If I let them swing
red (Oh my God)
I can see you in my head again
Arrows and bows will shoot me dead again
(Let my car run out) Let my car run out
(I won't scream
on real deals, not beefing online
Boy, I'm the keeper of mines
This shit run deep in my eyes
Gatekeep the piece to yo pie, ain't hurt I'm working on mine
whip Blast off
Make e money fast, fast
Nah run dung a guy, e killa dem nuh false start
Pocket never fracture,
Gyal dem benefactor
G-6 North Coast,
diss you dead mi bet mi life pon dat
Dawg
Don't tell eh giant bout fi buy nuh one v
Send eh money now inah live damn cash
Buy couple bullet fi the m 16
somethin that you can cherish
And live by yo own success level and merits
Until the reaper come and run the credits
Credits Credits, Credits, Credits
ain't breaking loose
These niggas be lemons on God they be sour
I'm feeling like fifty cent I got the power
I Run my own business fuck paid by the hour
see them chasing me
Will I run from them, run from them
15, 16 started off a young man
Head in another place no MySpace
Older dudes run around with
niggas think they live I'm a dead shit
Slow pokes way behind I'm ahead bitch
Bring your shit to a stop lights red bitch
I'm NASCAR gassed up
High
niggas think they live I'm a dead shit
Slow pokes way behind I'm ahead bitch
Bring your shit to a stop lights red bitch
I'm NASCAR gassed up
High
my mind's asking me why:
Is time passing me by, Will I ever be fine?
A money slave with nothing yet I need to divide
Raising the bar for what is left
pick. I tell motherfuckers keep watching, call me Netflix. Motherfuckers think they live, I’m a dead shit. Slow pokes way behind, I’m ahead bitch. Bring
a hole
Hole in one, leave you done
Live in the pain, or run
Spark ya brain, it's only begun (Uh)
Seen another dead ninja in my pathway today, yeuuh
a 16 ting yeah
Ok, Yes man i’m bringing him because I
Knew he was alright let’s go, ok, Skepta
I’m not scared of DEVelopment
DEVelopment ain’t in
So dem a go a dead even if dem run go inna di Bible
You roll wit' Jesus Christ? Mi have twenty-four disciple
Tech, Ruger, Luger, Brico, Beretta,
That wear name brands,
That don't like black folks,
Man,
cll of it's dead,
The fact that,
Man'll kill an opp,
For the sake of the block,
But run from
could've been dead
But I'm keeping my word, I won't fold
And I live like a rockstar
I'm trying to get chicken, no pot pie
Now tell me the truth
Tell me
, gone, 3, 2, 1
Why finish something that has never begun
The going gets tough and 3, 2, 1
You pack it all up and you start to run
We're all dead and gone
a boy run like he stole something
Run up on me, that's a madness
Rum-pu-pu-pum-pum
Hold tight the mandem on lockdown
God bless and keep your 'ead up
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