Mannequins Are My Best of Friends

Riding down the block in a 'Lac, got a Glock in my lap

As I holler, "Where ya at?"

No fear of attack because I know his peers ain't got his back

Creeping and I'm peeping, now the tank out of gas

Head home to the seventh ward, the ride there was fast

At last, walking into the house, I know the moment passed

Then I look into the mirror, noticed shattered glass

Looking like a spider web, caused by a blast

Trapping out the pine box, Hades got the block hot

Heron in my shoebox nodding with a blood clot

Used to sell that dope, but still never had no money

Slanging to fill my habits, addict serving up a junkie

I, I find it funny when I start to tiptoe with the reaper

He start to running, 'cause I usually start to beg and plead him

To take my soul, take my life, take my last breath

He never did, so I took his and I manifest