| Cause we gon' take 'em to the cemetery
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| It’s getting scary, they dare me to get these niggas buried
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| It’s such a rarity, rarely see me with niggas barely
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| Nobody scared me, you carried off in a cemetery
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| Hey my Killa City Shuffle cut a rug with misdirection
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| Niggas is nervous, losing service over disconnection
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| I scribble lines outside the further to critique depression
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| And waste my time using my mind designing lethal weapons
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| Probably hobble you, gotta holla, better keep it steppin'
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| Fuck up a check and this service wordless with a preacher flexing
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| Fuck what you thinking, the ship is sinking, better keep a weapon
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| I’m going totally krolly homie with a reefer breath on
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| So fuck you and that bitch, I fuck you with her dick
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| Ya dismissed to flip scripts and so pissed, I sip shit (quick)
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| And I don’t lose a single wink about it
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| And nevermind, I’m losing sleep without it
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| We too lit to drink shots, we do link to big plots
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| So you got, I think not, I’m Rorschach to inkblot
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| So mens here’s a song for your son and your daughter
|
| Won’t let 'em fuck the startup, more holy the water
|
| Cause we gon' take 'em to the cemetery
|
| It’s getting scary, they dare me to get these niggas buried
|
| It’s such a rarity, rarely see me with niggas barely
|
| Nobody scared me, you carried off in a cemetery
|
| Yeah, cause we gon' take 'em to the cemetery
|
| It’s getting scary, they dare me to get these niggas buried
|
| It’s such a rarity, rarely see me with niggas barely
|
| Nobody scared me, you carried off in a cemetery
|
| No animation, I’m geeked up
|
| Handcuff 'em like a C-cup
|
| Pop a beam then you throw nuts
|
| Think about it like a zombie body
|
| I just break 'em down like I know karate
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| Turn a nigga to a port-a-potty
|
| Sort of godly, know tolerance
|
| I don’t even need the audience
|
| I’ma body, you can read about it
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| See me eating like you know you doubt it
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| Trap geekin' cause I’m G’d up
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| AYTD till my feet up
|
| Lift a nigga cause the weed tough
|
| I don’t even think they see us
|
| Really, really wanna be us
|
| Really, really wanna be us?
|
| Gotta be another motherfucker think he smoother
|
| But I leave him sleeping under
|
| No wonder you a fool runner
|
| This is no cap, get ya hands strapped
|
| Leave ya head zapped, no new jack
|
| This cool strap is too laid back like a WayCap
|
| Take a dirt nap if you test that, nigga real rap
|
| Real rap like Biggie back, she gon' ride it like a piggyback
|
| New wave like the Internet, didn’t tell me that you into that
|
| Eat a chicken, leave them under where
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| Bust it down, leave it running yeah
|
| These rappers need to grow a pair
|
| We can see the paws struck and clear
|
| You don’t even gotta guess I’m here
|
| Cause we gon' take 'em to the cemetery
|
| It’s getting scary, they dare me to get these niggas buried
|
| It’s such a rarity, rarely see me with niggas barely
|
| Nobody scared me, you carried off in a cemetery
|
| Yeah, cause we gon' take 'em to the cemetery
|
| It’s getting scary, they dare me to get these niggas buried
|
| It’s such a rarity, rarely see me with niggas barely
|
| Nobody scared me, you carried off in a cemetery
|
| I don’t even like rappers, I’m on drugs
|
| Why you wanna know what’s in the stash, nigga you the fuzz
|
| I’m OJ with the gloves, I’m okay with the plug
|
| Like, «Hi, can I take your order?»
|
| Yeah I need a double quarter pound deluxe
|
| I was skipping court cause I didn’t like the judge
|
| I was flipping quarters like heads or tails
|
| I was fucking up cause I was in a rush
|
| Had to eyeball it cause I didn’t have a scale
|
| Don’t know what you call it but I call it skill
|
| Never went to college but I been to jail
|
| Never paid tuition but I got intuition
|
| Gotta know the difference when you doing deals
|
| Gotta do the dishes when you after meals
|
| Never chasing bitches, I be chasing chips
|
| But I keep some women like my name was Wilt
|
| Chamberlain, the chamber empty when we spit
|
| Came in here with Strange, I’m basically the shit
|
| Slanging cocaine and stranglin' a spliff
|
| Rolling paper planes coming off a trip
|
| I’m really high, you really just
|
| I don’t need E-40 just to B-Legit
|
| Ever since of shorty I was thinking big
|
| Kept a couple keys sitting on the side
|
| Like I play accordion up in this bitch
|
| Nintendo 64 that mean the nigga blitz
|
| Mean that I murder it like Brotha Lynch
|
| But I’m out of body with my brother Godi
|
| We Illuminati, you illiterate
|
| We just caught a body, we just caught a glimpse |