Текст пісні 94 - BONES

94

stereo
Driving in the nine four
Just say you don’t
Driving in the nine four
Kicking in the door, clip hold 24, I’m home, bitch, what the issue is?
Bitching on the phone to a bitch so loud, you couldn’t even hear a DeadBoy
enterin'
Caught him in the kitchen, I am fucking on a mission
12 shots, motherfuck a pistol whip
He sipping that mud, I slip on that blood, now the sole on my boots they
glistening
Blood spill, spit in his face
Sprayin' him like some fucking mace
Creep pulling up in a G, skull stitched on the seats inside my getaway
Tanqueray in my glass, reminiscing of my fucked up past
Matter of fact bustin' all black but theres many memories I wish I never had
Kicking back, smoke a blunt
High as fuck, my brain is ripped
Talking to my partner 'bout a play for some guala he down, I’m down,
lets hit the strip
Storm clouds every day, even if its just inside my head
Thunder and lightning, I am coming to strike him
He see BONES and he know he dead
stereo
Driving in the nine four
Just say you don’t
Driving in the nine four