| Counting sheep until I’m sound asleep
|
| I’m lounging deep in a grave I found without a sound or peep
|
| I lay in the ground, six feet
|
| Slick as sleet, sneakin' a beat
|
| Let the breath leak out my mouth
|
| Bitch, I want your skull, fuck what’s under your skirt
|
| You broke my heart, and now I’ma, I’ma make you hurt
|
| Stomp you on the curb, and then I’ll throw you in the dirt
|
| Give you back to the Earth
|
| Girl, you were something special, yeah, you were my fucking first
|
| You wanna cuddle?
|
| We can cuddle in the back of the fucking hearse
|
| (We can cuddle in the back of the fucking hearse)
|
| I don’t need your sympathy, make them bitches sing for me
|
| Caught up in reality, smokin' on some fantasy
|
| Put the gun against my head, pull the trigger, now I’m dead
|
| Bitches wanna count my bread, only let them give me head
|
| Sleeping in a tulip bed, smokin' green and seeing red
|
| Loading up the clip with lead, trigger finger soft as thread
|
| No jewels and no chains, I like it that way
|
| Don’t know what I’m up to until that Glock in your face
|
| I pop that bitch, and I spray
|
| Got these hoes on delay
|
| All it take is one word, they do whatever I say
|
| (All it take is one word, they do whatever I say) |