| Load up my big nine, now I'm finna shoot to kill
|
| If you bustas slippin', it's this .50 finna do the deal
|
| Load up my big nine, now I'm finna shoot to kill
|
| If you bustas slippin', it's this .50 finna do the deal
|
| Load up my big nine, now I'm finna shoot to kill
|
| If you bustas slippin', it's this .50 finna do the deal
|
| Load up my big nine, now I'm finna shoot to kill
|
| If you bustas slippin', it's this .50 finna do the deal
|
| Load up my big nine, now I'm finna shoot to kill (Aye, aye)
|
| (Ruby, you got it?)
|
| If you bustas slippin', it's this .50 finna do the deal
|
| Straight out of hell, ring the bells
|
| Plague is here to stay
|
| Roaches and locusts, they cover me knowing they hover me
|
| Follow me in your grave
|
| Ain't got no Patek, because I'll be here 'til the end of fucking times
|
| Thy kingdom come, thy will be done
|
| And still you're wondering, "who am I?"
|
| I am the devil's son, born and raised
|
| Preaching $uicide
|
| Googly eyes, tell me more, okay
|
| Praise the fuckin' devil, God can suck my dick
|
| I scorch the plains
|
| Making mountains crumble, glaciers melting, oceans swelling
|
| I'm lord of the plagues
|
| Load up my big–
|
| Wait a fucking minute—I got more to say
|
| Threatenin' swordplay
|
| Still the same name, 'cause the chip on my sword's blade
|
| Lil Plague make a forté, stick it with the gourmet
|
| Hot and
|
| For war, we pray
|
| Fate is cold, and no way hanging from the door frame, with swords that say
|
| For war, we pray
|
| 7th Ward, the grave
|
| For war, we pray
|
| 7th Ward, the grave
|
| For war, we pray
|
| 7th Ward, the grave
|
| For war, we pray
|
| Death is inevitable
|
| The fucking $carecrow walking on his tip-toes
|
| While your blood stay, we'll flow
|
| You know, mister typical
|
| Hearing the fucking voices through my window
|
| (Begging to be dead)
|
| But no worries
|
| Just like Chucky, Cut Throat got the blade and a knife
|
| Made that rise for the Yung Christ, never even died
|
| My father just forsaken, I
|
| I'm still $uicide until I die
|
| It's an eye for an eye
|
| Speaking of eye, I– (someone help me out)
|
| See the reaper having a busy season
|
| Won't even let me rest while I'm sleepin'
|
| It's getting harder to watch from the bleachers
|
| The father of evil
|
| Like Knievel, Ruby and I stay jumping over people
|
| Xanax eatin'
|
| Close to lethal
|
| Cigarette breathing junkie, used to needles
|
| So I grew up a fuck up (pow! pow! pow! pow!)
|
| Load a nine up, my time's up, yeah (yeah, yeah)
|
| Grew up a fuck up
|
| Load up my big nine, now I'm finna shoot to kill
|
| Load a nine up (fuck all this shit)
|
| If you bustas slippin'
|
| My time's up, fuck
|
| It's this .50 finna— |