| Now if I wasn’t drunk I’d probably blow my f*cken brains out
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| The A.P.D wanna ring my neck for the way I handle thangs now
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| You think I give a f*ck? |
| My whole life I’ve been known to press my luck
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| I’m walkin' up the block with a limp from the SK chop tucked in my nuts
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| I hope this goes as planned, it’s been about 2 weeks I’ve been plottin'
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| About how far to park the getaway and how many fences I’ll be hoppin'
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| How many backyards got dogs? |
| F*ck that, kill 'em with the steak and d-con
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| Then do my dirty deed commence to hit that fence and be gone
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| For the future blastin', gotta keep my ass up out the casket
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| Or my click gonna be one less deep that’s one less soldier in action
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| And we can’t afford that, too many riders already swallowed
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| But we hangin' on wit a left hand grip while our right
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| hands buckin' hollowz
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| Hollerin' Yoc life… Norte… f*ck thirteen, catorce
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| I earn a stripe for the norte side every scrap life I make forfeit
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| Plus there’s more shit I must tend to due to the backstabbin'
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| I’ve been through |
| Antioch’s my place of venue for ex-homiez on my menu
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| Chalk it up to the evil that men do when I ventilate your chest
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| And you can’t help but piss and shit all over yourself and meet your death
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| Take your last breath. |