Sarcophagus II

Run up on a fucking busta
Kill 'em like I'm body lovin'
Grabbin' the shovel wrap him in bubbles
Schizophrenic lunatic
Cold hearted motherfucker
Run your mouth bitch run your mouth
All these fucking rappers front
Talking shit behind your back
They shake your hand then hit the blunt
You see the difference with me
I grew up with the G's in the west bank streets
Running drugs up on my bike when I was just Thirteen
Every day another fight but I was scared to bleed
You beat my ass you better kill me I'll return with the fleet
Cut em gun em down and nothing beat the case in a week
If nobody do no snitching they ain't got shit on me
Walking free, why you dead covered up in a sheet
BITCH

Pull up with this motherfucking Tec
Pull up with this motherfucking Mac
Pull up with the motherfucking sack full of green
What you mean you ain't gonna smoke this shit with me
I smack a rapper with the backhand then tell him to get his own P
What you know about me, hoe Grey is what I be
I got Ramirez in the cut and he stay ready to cut
Yeah bitch I got Christ in the cut with the shotty pumping and ducking
I got Navi I got Blackout I got Six Fo' I got Stunna
Now what the fuck you wanna do I just gotta call up a number

Think about a murder
Repping triple six is unheard of
Stalking through the fucking night and killing these bustas so what's heard of
Slick is gripping on the Mossberg
Oddy on the Tec-9
Run your mouth I'll bust your spine and end your motherfucking life
Got these bodies floating where the river turns grey
Fucking with the Fifty Nine
The bullets from my new robbery getting sprayed
Sucking ducking gripping on my motherfucking tone
Punch you in the fucking face, stab your brain with your nose bone



Credits
Writer(s): Aristos Petrou, Scott Arcenaux, Ivan Ramirez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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