Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Dex Osama
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dex Osama
Songwriter
Charles Jerome Taylor
Songwriter
Deon Waller
Songwriter
Rayshawn Gordon
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Rj Lamont
Producer
Lyrics
[Intro]
(Ooh, RJ)
[Instrumental]
My mama said I got death on me (Death on me)
The reason why I got this vest on me (Yeah)
These **** want me, then come get me
I ain't hidin', ****, I'm in the city (I'm in the city)
I heard dog was puttin' that play down (Uh-huh)
Chopper give him brain freeze from a K round (Bitch)
These **** know they gotta set me up to wet me up
'Cause if I get that first squeeze, I'ma act a nut
Damn, Dex, boy, I heard it was a hundred bands (Skrrt)
Times three, lil' ****, that's three hundred grand (Three hundred)
Me and Marley switching lanes in a two-seater
No shirt, just a Cuban and a wife beater
Bitch (Bitch), me and my **** be them Choppa Boyz
If we slide down your block, we gotta drop a boy (Uh-huh)
Pop a **** ass back just like an E pill (Then what your do?)
I swing around the corner, come back, get this refill
[Chorus]
These **** want me dead, ****
They put money on my head
They put money on my mind
I done blew the Francky out, fuck the time
These **** want me dead, ****
They put money on my head
They put money on my mind
I done blew the Francky out, fuck the time
[Verse 1]
Bitch (Bitch), it's back to this street shit (Uh-huh)
The reason why we beef, we like to kill shit, ****
We swing them choppers and we send 'em home
Best believe that that **** gone
They playin' with some real **** (Real ****)
They playin' with some ill **** (Ill ****)
Matter fact, free Ill, **** (Free Will)
That young boy, he like to kill ****
These **** got us fucked up (Fucked up)
These **** got us fucked up (Fucked up)
Them .223s, he'll get slumped up (Yeah)
I'll have them Choppa Boyz go and line him up (Choppa)
These **** playin', bitch, I'm fed-bound (Fed-bound)
I heard they found that **** body at the playground (Yeah)
I-75 South back to Oaktown (Oaktown)
That's where the fiends at, bitch, that's where it go down
[Chorus]
These **** want me dead, ****
They put money on my head
They put money on my mind
I done blew the Francky out, fuck the time
These **** want me dead, ****
They put money on my head
They put money on my mind
I done blew the Francky out, fuck the time
Written by: Charles Taylor