M.o.b.! nigga we ridei hit the charts like a stick-up kid
Then two days later you are shot dead at your crib
We are the dead, ain't no denying it
See the feds and tap out that's wrestler shit
All of those are dead to me, similar to the children's parents
Are you afraid of a thug? and have you ever made love
'bout to get my other car
Thunderstorm while u are
Because of the feds as we pledge to let our plague spread
Well, my plans are done so put a bullet through my head, yes im dead.
Pac said fuck the world and i ain't come yet
You got pets? me too: mine are dead
Tell by your handbag that boy don't do you right
Now those two other kids are dead... i look at the bride...
You could say i'm friends with fred
Even when my dreams are dead
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