| Mother: I know what’s wrong with that crazy motherfucker
|
| He’s just stand by the goddamn window
|
| with that fuckin’AK all day
|
| You don’t work, you don’t fuck, you don’t,
|
| you don’t do a goddamn thing
|
| I see death around the corner, gotta stay high while I survive
|
| In the city where the skinny niggas die
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| If they bury me, bury me as a G nigga, no need to worry
|
| I expect retaliation in a hurry
|
| I see death around the — corner, any day
|
| Tryin to keep it together, no one lives forever anyway
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| Strugglin and strivin, my destiny’s to die
|
| Keep my finger on the trigger, no mercy in my eyes
|
| In a ball of confusion, I think about my daddy
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| Madder than a motherfucker, they never shoulda had me I guess I seen too many murders, the doctors can’t help me Got me stressin with my pistol in my sheets, it ain’t healthy
|
| Am I paranoid? |
| — Tell me the truth
|
| I’m out the window with my AK, ready to shoot
|
| Ran out of indo and my mind can’t take the stress, I’m out of breath
|
| Make me wanna kill my damn self; |
| but I see death around the corner
|
| (When we were kids, belonging felt good.)
|
| I see death around the corner
|
| (But having respect, that feels even better.)
|
| I see death around the corner
|
| (When we were kids, belonging felt good.)
|
| I see death around the corner
|
| (But having respect, that feels even better.)
|
| I see death around the corner, the pressure’s gettin to me
|
| I no longer trust my homies — them phonies tried to do me
|
| Smoking too much weed, got me paranoid, stressed
|
| Pack a gat and my vest, under my clothes when I dress
|
| Here’s hopin I die the way I lived, straight thuggin
|
| Huggin my trigger for all them niggas that was buggin'
|
| My homie told me once, don’t you trust them other suckers
|
| They fought like they your homies but they phony motherfuckers
|
| And even if I did die young, who cares
|
| All I ever got was mean mugs and cold stares
|
| Got homies in my head that done passed away screamin, please
|
| Young nigga, make G’s
|
| I can’t give up, although I’m hopeless, I think my mind’s gone
|
| All I can do is get my grind on, death around the corner
|
| I was raised in the city, shitty
|
| Ever since I was an itty bitty kitty
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| Drinkin liquor out my momma’s titty
|
| And smokin weed was an everyday thang in my household
|
| And drinking liquor til’you out cold
|
| And though I’m grown now, nigga it’s still on — Pow!
|
| Bustin on them niggaz 'til they gone
|
| How many more jealous ass bitches, comin for my riches
|
| Now I gotta stay suspicious when I bone
|
| Cause if I ain’t sharp and heartless, them bitches’ll start shit
|
| Excuse me, but this is where we part bitch
|
| No more game for free, please explain to me Why niggaz trip bitch, who you came to see?
|
| Murderin now but see me later man, as for my pops
|
| I got homies that will hunt you 'til you drop
|
| I hope the Lord can forgive me, I was a G And gettin high was a way of bein free; |
| I see death around the corner
|
| This is for all the real motherfuckin niggaz out there
|
| I know you ain’t scared to die; |
| we all gotta go, y’know?
|
| A real motherfucker will pick the time he goes
|
| And make sure he handles his motherfuckin business
|
| (You think you’re gonna live long enough to spend that money,
|
| you fuckin hump? |
| →dialogue from King of New York)
|
| Y’all niggaz stop acting like pussies out there, all right
|
| If any of you.
|
| are tired of gettin’ripped off by guys like that. |
| →C. |
| Walken
|
| I want his family dead! |
| I want his house burnt to the ground!
|
| I wanna go there in the middle of the night I wanna piss on his head!
|
| I want his family dead! |
| I want his house burnt to the ground!
|
| I wanna go there in the middle of the night I wanna piss on his head!
|
| I want that sunnuvabitch dead, I want him dead!
|
| I want him dead, I don’t care. |