Chocking them up
With the grain in my cup
I'm rolling up on you
And into your house
Burning an ounce
Just to stay on the ground
And killing you bitches if you too miss a count
Chest throat killer
Running out of liquor
One hand on the blade
One hand on the trigger
The bodies are piling up in the river
They see spooky black the wood grain gripper
Sipping bombay
Don't give a fuck what they trying to say
Spooky you handle this shit everyday
Every scene I leave them in graves
I be smoking with a slut
Pull the screen
The deeper my blade it will cut
Creeping low deep in the cut
Creeping the sinner will feel it and be more corrupt
Running yo pockets and an another mention of the forest all up on my wrist
If you pulling the trigger you better not miss
Pulling yo bitch
Doing our shit
Ducking diving ghost
Deep in the forest and hand on the smoke
Pushing the blade, the back of your throat
Tarmac fall back all black coat, bitch
I'm just trying to smoke
Tec-9 behind all black coat
Wishing that I was a ghost
Bitch I am using as host
Killing you losing your ho
Catching and jocking
And creeping and stalking
And deep in the ally the blunts I'm sparking
Evil mark-ass bitches wana be me?
Y'all just fucking starving!
FUCKING STARVING
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