Getting high, see the demons in my eyes, before i die
Nowadays you look empty, ya love runnin on a low supply
I swear i put this shit down without a gimmick or lie
This isn't a diss, this is just a reply to hip-hop's low supply/
Automatic possessing with intent to supply
Tryin'a keep up with my mind, and you wonder why
It's too late, you ran ran out of your last supply
A lime to a lemon, remind you of the sky
Dead at thirteen cause he yearned to bangsniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry
I leave most motherfuckers with suppressed lungs running out of air supply,
Keep your eyes open, i can only say i'll try
She knew he was her supply, thought it better than to lie
In case i don't get intell all my people i'm a ridahnobody cries when we die
I'm losing supply up on high that no lie and i'ma bout to apply for my old guy
Bait baby, wait baby
The fiends supply the shady
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