Bring out Your Dead

You gon', you gon', die, die (Out of the way, kids!)

Hanging out the motherfucking window (Aye, aye, aye)

'Bout to shoot this bitch

Used to smoke crack, now I count fucking racks

Mack daddy smacked, licking a powder bag

Back on my bullshit, white Benz coupe fit three in the back

And that's not including yo' bitch, too, shit

Mutt hit the blunt like a bum

$lick in the cut with a cut, no, we never gave a fuck

Here I come, suck it up, bitch, I'm fucked

Lead in the brain, I got tar in the lungs

Threads full of stains in my car, fucking slumped

Nothing to gain, I got nothing but bad fucking luck

Lean the seat back as I swerve and I crash

Yeah, there's blood mixed with glass, as my dreams turn to black, I'm ash

Put 'em in the back, no strap in the backpack

Just a bunch of trash

Told Zac, "If we ever fell off with G*59 or FTP

Let's just be terrorists, blow up on NBC"

Yeah, you gon' die, ho

Yeah, you gon' die, ho

Hanging out the motherfucking window

'Bout to shoot this bitch

Yeah, you gon' die, ho

Yeah, you gon' die, ho

Hanging out the motherfucking window (Ooh, ooh!)

'Bout to shoot this bitch

This for any pussy-boy that wanna act up (Ac' up)

Find yourself dead with no guts (No guts)

Voice in my head saying, "Kill yourself!"

So, so, so I wrote a note

Hot boy, turned cold

To whom it may concern, fuck you and the world

Nurse these Xanax, anxiety on panic, like "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I gotta go!"

I got a sixty pack waitin' at home

Feel like a zombie; I'm all alone

Everyone clones

Please tell your bitch to stop hitting my phone

Before I put the .45 at your dome, lil' bitch!

Hollow tips to the whole motherfucking game (Game!)

Hollow tips, gonna insert in my brain

Yeah, you gon' die, ho

Yeah, you gon' die, ho (R.I.P. Koopsta Knicca)

Hanging out the motherfucking window (R.I.P. Koopsta Knicca)

'Bout to shoot this bitch

Yeah, you gon' die, ho (R.I.P. Koopsta Knicca)

Yeah, you gon' die, ho

Hanging out the