| Yeah |
| Comin' to your live from the cemetery |
| Put a 94 and a 95 |
| It's goin' down like this |
| For all you hatin' ass bitches |
| Play hate |
| Don't eat your soul |
|
| Whippin' Chevy on Pirelli, swangin' lines, dope, dope |
| Keep the heater on my lap, I ain't got a truck, truck |
| Got my youngin' in the grap with the Kel-Tec pump |
| Ten shells, send it to hell, if he talkin' tuck, tuck |
| He a pump, he a pussy, he don't really drive, drive |
| Try to jack me for my can, the car, you must wanna die |
| Flipped a Motorola, cuz it chirpin' like a bird |
| Through the streets, made labor, it's the gang that gon' hurt you |
|
| Yeah |
| No time to live |
| 3:45 AM |
| Still I gonna die |
|
| Touchscreen navigator, seats made of alligator |
| Boots made of reptile, wrist shinin' like it's Vegas |
| Chain look like Now and Laters, punchin' like a calculator |
| Hunnid here, hunnid there, got no time to late it, late it |
| I just charge it to the gang, if I ever trippin', trippin' |
| Bitch, I'll barrel eggs sippin', bitch I'm wood grain grippin' |
| HD DVD playin' in the dashboard |
| Rush hour to alarming traffic help me fast forward, yeah |
|
| What? |
| Yeah |
| It's like that |
|