| A .44 bullet shell took my niggas life
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| Triggers pulled by some young niggas on that white
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| He used to fuck with them boys on the weed tip
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| They found my nigga dead, face down in a ditch
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| I saw that shit on the news just the other day
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| I ain’t for singing no blues, I’mma make 'em pay
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| I know them bitches, they be hanging at the Shake Junt
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| I catch 'em slipping, coming out and commence to pump
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| Been led, leave 'em dead on the fucking scene
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| Throw them out in a steamer, make the getaway clean
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| I made a block then I switched to the other ride
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| I’m still in shock cause I just did a homicide
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| I executed me some punks that deserved it
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| They had a warrant for they death, so I served it
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| I gave them tricks a little dose of they medicine
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| I bet them hoes, man’ll never try that shit again
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| (red Rum!)
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| Most of y’all wanna see some blood spilling anyway
|
| (red Rum!)
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| Bodies fall, niggas dying young on this everyday
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| (red Rum!)
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| Laid to rest, must’ve been your time for you to clock out
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| (red Rum!)
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| Had a vest, but you should’ve had your fucking Glock out
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| In the streets, niggas die, they got fried, cause they tried
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| Tested game of the man who’s committing homicides
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| Suicide, would be better for you fools
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| But I’ll be damned if I don’t
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| Help you out like the «duck, forty» and, see I can
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| And I’m willing to proceed with a killing
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| Stick a gauge up your anus, do a crime, make it heinous
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| Aim this anger to my chamber, let a slug through that talk
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| Cause I’m on a bloody stalk, putting suckers in the chalk
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| Walk the walk, get your game, guns click, it’s whatever, nigga
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| I ain’t barrin' shit, so you know whatever’s clever, nigga
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| Trigger-happy, nappy-headed, set it; |
| I shall peel some
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| Motherfuckers cap when I roll with the shotgun
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| Project pop one of you niggas trying to steal my shit
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| Fuck with me and mine and I swear it’s a murder, bitch
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| Yeah, I see you niggas mean-mugging on them porches
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| Unload that thang, watch 'em scatter like roaches
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| (red Rum!)
|
| Most of y’all wanna see some blood spilling anyway
|
| (red Rum!)
|
| Bodies fall, niggas dying young on this everyday
|
| (red Rum!)
|
| Laid to rest, must’ve been your time for you to clock out
|
| (red Rum!)
|
| Had a vest, but you should’ve had your fucking Glock out |