Bring Out Your Dead Songtext
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You gon', You gon', die, die– (Out of the way, kids!)
They be actin' for a fuckin' bitch (ay, ay, ay)
I'm 'bout to shoot this bitch
Used to smoke crack, now I count fucking racks
Back to the smack, lickin' the powder bags
Back on my bullshit, white bands, scoof it
Three in the back, and that's not including yo' bitch tushy
Mutt hit the blunt like a bump
$lick in the cut with the cut, no, we never gave a fuck
They be actin' for a fuckin' bitch (ay, ay, ay)
I'm 'bout to shoot this bitch
Used to smoke crack, now I count fucking racks
Back to the smack, lickin' the powder bags
Back on my bullshit, white bands, scoof it
Three in the back, and that's not including yo' bitch tushy
Mutt hit the blunt like a bump
$lick in the cut with the cut, no, we never gave a fuck
If I cum, suck it up, bitch, I'm fucked
Lead in the brain, I got tar in the lungs
Dreads full of stank, til' my car fuckin' slumped
Nothing to gain, I got nothing but bad fucking luck
Lean the seat back as I'm swerving, I crash
Yeah, this blunt mixed with glass, as my dreams turn to black
I'm ash
Put 'em in the back, no strap in the backpack
Just a bunch of trash
Told Zac, "If we ever fell off with G*59 or FTP
Let's just be terrorists, blow up on NBC"
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
They be actin' for a fuckin' bitch
I'm 'bout to shoot this bitch
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
They be actin' for a fuckin' bitch
I'm 'bout to shoot this bitch
This for any pussy boy wanna act up (ac' up)
Find yourself dead with no guts (no guts)
Voice in my head say, "Ya ain't kill yourself!"
So, so, so I wrote a note
Hot boy, Torkoal
Told homie, "make a circle"
Fuck you when the runners
These Xanax anxiety on panic
Fuck, fuck, fuck! I got to go!
I got a sixty pack waitin' at home
Feel like a zombie; I'm all alone
Everyone clones
Please tell your bitch to stop hitting my phone
[?]
Let's get it, get that hoe!
Motherfucking gang (gang!)
I don't damn care, aye
So am I right?
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
They be actin' for a fuckin' bitch
I'm 'bout to shoot this bitch
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
They be actin' for a fuckin' bitch
I'm 'bout to shoot this bitch
Triple Six
Lead in the brain, I got tar in the lungs
Dreads full of stank, til' my car fuckin' slumped
Nothing to gain, I got nothing but bad fucking luck
Lean the seat back as I'm swerving, I crash
Yeah, this blunt mixed with glass, as my dreams turn to black
I'm ash
Put 'em in the back, no strap in the backpack
Just a bunch of trash
Told Zac, "If we ever fell off with G*59 or FTP
Let's just be terrorists, blow up on NBC"
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
They be actin' for a fuckin' bitch
I'm 'bout to shoot this bitch
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
They be actin' for a fuckin' bitch
I'm 'bout to shoot this bitch
This for any pussy boy wanna act up (ac' up)
Find yourself dead with no guts (no guts)
Voice in my head say, "Ya ain't kill yourself!"
So, so, so I wrote a note
Hot boy, Torkoal
Told homie, "make a circle"
Fuck you when the runners
These Xanax anxiety on panic
Fuck, fuck, fuck! I got to go!
I got a sixty pack waitin' at home
Feel like a zombie; I'm all alone
Everyone clones
Please tell your bitch to stop hitting my phone
[?]
Let's get it, get that hoe!
Motherfucking gang (gang!)
I don't damn care, aye
So am I right?
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
They be actin' for a fuckin' bitch
I'm 'bout to shoot this bitch
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
Bitch, you gon' die, hoe
They be actin' for a fuckin' bitch
I'm 'bout to shoot this bitch
Triple Six
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