‘cause that’s the case i'm known to pack a tool as well
But even then i'll rock the dead in hell
I'm giving testimonies to strangers i never met
Got overun by the youngster gang, but i glock till they dead/
Bartender, no ice, bring another shot
Glock cocked, i pol pot, pop off the whole block//
I drink a red bull to get a red wing, flow tight make the dead sing
Wow, umm, so tyler if you had the chance to tell him something
You need more grease in your hair, so they weaves you
Blue or red? neither...you're dead too
Just remember us from time to time when you drop them lines
With a trail of dead mic's cause these wack cats get stopped like red lights.
Dressin' down like a villian', but only on the block
Fred on his flintstone, cept i make the dead rock
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