Memories of Murder

I always prepare for the worse
But I ain't prepare to put that ass in a hearse
Didn't want to beat ya didn't want to eat ya
All I really wanted was the purse
But I stood back she looking like a snack
Looking Like a fucking dessert
So I went back
Went to Get the gat
Went to go dig up some dirt
Sleep deprived And I wonder why
Broken heart cuz I can't decide
Do I really wanna fucking die
Or do I wanna just stay inside
Anger problems And must admit it
The devil is a bitch that nigga ain't winnin
Just pray to god they don't get me
Got a blade In the back and I'm bout to go get it

I got memories of murder
That's something you ain't heard of
I'm a creep I'm in too deep
So I cant desert ya
I don't want to hurt ya
But I will if it urgent
Now the blood looking like mud
Can't get it out with detergent
Talisman of rebirth
Crawling out of the dirt
Didn't know it would work
So now I'm back up on this earth
He think he tough
He backing up
Boy I can tell that he scared
He think he tough
He backing up
Boy I'm about to swing first



Credits
Writer(s): Isaiah Gibson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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