Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dead Letter , by - Royal Flush. Song from the album Ghetto Millionaire, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 18.08.1997
Record label: Blunt
Song language: English
Dead Letter |
| Dear Magic, how is livin life up there? |
| Is it the same thing, people smoke weed and drink beer |
| I sware, shit is really sink down here |
| Pardon the wet spot, but that’s a drop from my tear |
| Oh yeah, Two-casin Bob, he’s still out here |
| Plus your little brother’s growin up, mom’s steady holdin up |
| But guess what, Sha-born just got locked up, shit’s rough |
| Plus I started rappin and such, and signed to Blunt |
| Tryin to make it platinum and plus |
| And even tried dust, put in handcuffs |
| 'Member little John I snuffed, nigga startin to act to tough |
| Caught him off guard and got bucked |
| So when he get up there, get his stupid ass touch |
| So one love, nigga, know that I miss you much |
| And when you died they got the best of me |
| I never thought that the streets would get the rest of me |
| But now I’m stuck between the evil and my destiny |
| It’s dedicated to my niggas, that’s rest in peace |
| I’m constantly thinkin bout your presence |
| We used to bustin weapons and cursin out reverend |
| We met around seven, and got married to the game at eleven |
| Rollin dice was heaven, started fuckin grown women |
| Drivin cars is tinted, if it’s beef we all in it |
| Let me stop for a minute, mind zonin and bented |
| Almost crashed the rented, ninety miles a minute |
| Pull over, sweat the linen, started to lose my vision |
| Is it you I’m really missin, I turn my head when no one’s listenin |
| The last words you said «Tell Uni that I’m whistlin» |
| P. S., I’ve been writin you, since you left |
| Never understand why you wasn’t wearin a vest |
| But for you, it’s God bless, take it off your chest |
| I guess it’s all a test, smokin mad weed for the stress |
| Put my A-alike to rest, I’m gonna stay here and live life up to best |
| You got my pictures yet? |
| Of me and Ty-Boogie sippin mad Moet |
| That Carnel shit, if you ain’t got them, I send some more flicks |
| So right me back quick |
| Cuz soon or later I’ll be wit you smokin mad spliffs |
| Plus I got a headache and my hands startin to slip |
| I miss you so much, I can’t deal wit this shit |