| I sit alone in my four-cornered room staring at candles
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| Oh, that shit is on?
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| Let me drop some shit like this here, real smooth
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| At night I can’t sleep, I toss and turn
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| Candlesticks in the dark, visions of bodies being burned
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| Four walls just staring at a nigga
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| I’m paranoid, sleeping with my finger on the trigger
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| My mother’s always stressin' I ain’t living right
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| But I ain’t going out without a fight
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| See, every time my eyes close
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| I start sweating and blood starts coming out my nose
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| It’s somebody watching the Ak'
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| But I don’t know who it is, so I’m watching my back
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| I can see him when I’m deep in the covers
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| When I awake I don’t see the motherfucker
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| He owns a black hat like I own
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| A black suit and a 'caine like my own
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| Some might say, «Take a chill, B.»
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| But fuck that shit! |
| There’s a nigga trying to kill me
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| I’m poppin' in the clip when the wind blows
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| Every 20 seconds got me peeping out my window
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| Investigating the joint for traps
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| Checking my telephone for taps
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| I’m staring at the woman on the corner
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| It’s fucked up when your mind’s playing tricks on ya
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| I make big money, I drive big cars
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| Everybody know me; |
| it’s like I’m a movie star
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| But late at night, something ain’t right
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| I feel I’m being tailed by the same sucker’s headlights
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| Is it that fool that I ran off the block?
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| Or is it that nigga last week that I shot?
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| Or is it the one I beat for 5000 dollars?
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| Thought he had 'caine, but it was Gold Medal flour
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| Reached under my seat, grabbed my popper for the suckers
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| Ain’t no use to me lying
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| I was scareder than a motherfucker
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| Hooked a left into Popeye’s and bailed out quick
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| If it’s going down, let’s get this shit over with
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| Here they come just like I figured
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| I got my hand on the motherfucking trigger
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| What I saw’ll make your ass start gigglin'
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| Three blind, crippled and crazy senior citizens
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| I live by the sword
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| I take my boys everywhere I go, because I’m paranoid
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| I keep looking over my shoulder
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| And peeping around corners; |
| my mind is playing tricks on me
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| Day by day it’s more impossible to cope
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| I feel like I’m the one that’s doing dope
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| Can’t keep a steady hand, because I’m nervous
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| Every Sunday morning I’m in service
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| Praying for forgiveness
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| And tryin' to find an exit out the business
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| I know the Lord is looking at me
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| But yet and still it’s hard for me to feel happy
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| I often drift while I drive
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| Having fatal thoughts of suicide
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| Bang and get it over with
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| And then I’m worry-free, but that’s bullshit
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| I got a little boy to look after
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| And if I died then my child would be a bastard
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| I had a woman down with me
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| But to me it seemed like she was down to get me
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| She helped me out in this shit
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| But to me she was just another bitch
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| Now she’s back with her mother
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| Now I’m realizing that I love her
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| Now I’m feeling lonely
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| My mind is playing tricks on me
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| This year Halloween fell on a weekend
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| Me and Geto Boys are trick-or-treatin'
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| Robbing little kids for bags
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| Till a law man got behind our ass
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| So we speeded up the pace
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| Took a look back and he was right before our face
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| He’d be in for a squabble, no doubt
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| So I swung and hit the nigga in his mouth
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| He was going down we figured
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| But this wasn’t no ordinary nigga
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| He stood about six or seven feet
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| Now that’s the nigga I’d be seeing in my sleep
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| So we triple-teamed on him
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| Dropping them motherfucking B’s on him
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| The more I swung, the more blood flew
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| Then he disappeared and my boys disappeared too
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| Then I felt just like a fiend
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| It wasn’t even close to Halloween
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| It was dark as fuck on the streets
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| My hands were all bloody, from punching on the concrete
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| God damn, homie
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| My mind is playing tricks on me |