| Shots trickle down the block
|
| It’s surrounded with cops
|
| And paramedics, everybody on their front lawn
|
| So I took caution, scoped the scenery out
|
| Look to my left and see my nigga’s moms
|
| Tears rolling down her face, I knew somethin' was wrong
|
| Cause usually her demeanor was calm and she hysterical
|
| Spotted the body bag, it’s when I did the math
|
| They took her only son, he was all she had
|
| And that was my nigga, so I gotta ride
|
| Made a phone call, somebody gotta die
|
| Leave more yellow tape than Columbine
|
| Catastrophic like when two missiles collide
|
| You can feel it in your chest, seconds away from death
|
| Nigga take a deep breath, hope you wearin' a vest
|
| Cause when them bullets fly there ain’t gone be nothin' left
|
| Nigga now breathe in
|
| Now breathe in
|
| Breath in
|
| Breathe in
|
| Breathe out
|
| My nigga busted in the crib, head throbbin' and shit
|
| He got his dome split, strong ???
|
| I called the ambulance, my baby mama all in the mix
|
| She on her cell phone talkin' her shit we gotta handle this
|
| Before the sun up, they probably think we finna run up
|
| Until I put the gun up, and leave them niggas done up
|
| Revenge is a muthafucka, no matter who involved
|
| Shootin him, shootin yall, hit they block
|
| Seen the lady, she was 'bout 46
|
| She told her son, «goodbye» with a hug and a kiss
|
| Waited til she inside, then my niggas rode by
|
| Hit that nigga with the 4−5, let him know it’s live muthafucka
|
| You can feel it in your chest, seconds away from death
|
| Nigga take a deep breath, hope you wearin' a vest
|
| Cause when them bullets fly there ain’t gone be nothin' left
|
| Nigga now breathe in
|
| Now breathe in
|
| Breath in
|
| Breathe in
|
| Breathe out
|
| Never thought that I would be a killer
|
| Now I’m in the Chevy with my finger on the trigger
|
| Drunk with revenge, you can smell it on my breath
|
| Dressed in all black as I ride through the 'jects
|
| Heart beatin' fast, palms full of sweat put my foot on the gas
|
| Hopin' for the best, prepared for the worst
|
| Hand on the tech, itchin' to let it burst, hopin' that it connect
|
| (where the fuck is these niggas at?)
|
| Spotted 'em, but they ain’t see us
|
| Hopped out the Chevy, then we got at 'em
|
| One of them ducked, the other one caught one in the rib
|
| Thinkin' to myself, «these niggas can’t live»
|
| Ugh
|
| You can feel it in your chest, seconds away from death
|
| Nigga take a deep breath, hope you wearin' a vest
|
| Cause when them bullets fly there ain’t gone be nothin' left
|
| Now breathe in
|
| Now breathe in
|
| Breath in
|
| Breathe in
|
| Breathe out |