With my red p hat, nigga you know we back
My realm is shillack, my wooden floor's got a crack
I'm working while they sleeping, so staying's not an option
Rotting in a graveyard garden, six feet deep in your wooden coffin
Shawty look half indian and never say a thing
Ima just sit and wait my chairs reclining,
Gas 'em like a rental, when i take off, tell the bitch take care
I can finally rest in piece and sit in my wooden chair.
I feel something change in the weather, and i’m home, home, home
But a pole position you couldn't hold, not even your own wooden bone
Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense
I open a door and see demons playin musical chairs
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