Desperado

Dedicated to

This dedicated to

Fuck it

Uh, I got a pocketful of posies

Some devil with a pitchfork keep talkin' like he know me

I'm psychopathic, low key, my hyperactive dome piece

Get no sleep, ill as fuck, the hospital seem so weak

I stood before an angel as He told me 'bout the glory

Put me in a room of people, how the fuck could I be lonely?

I only get money, these labels tryna clone me

Uh, my thoughts get heavy, hit the ground and crack the concrete

So I try to keep 'em in my head

It's sad to see when everything that you believe is dead

Word to Heavy D, and rest in peace to all that come and pass

Life is good sometimes but it just doesn't last

A bunch of stress, you see this mic is like my punchin' bag

Rock 'n' roll, drugs and cash, you softer than a bubble bath

Sucka ass muhfucka, muhfucka's sentiment

Doper than the shit that killed Chris Tucker in Dead Presidents

Desert rhymes, homie, ridin' beats, I'm on a camel

I'm way too hot to handle, life a beach, I brought my sandals

You want a war, I got a lotta ammo

You ain't a soldier 'cause you rockin' camo

Young Rambo, hunnid million fans though

And I do it big, you a iPod Nano

Fire on wax, look like I rock candles

Yeah, you gotta show but you ain't on my channel

That's HBO, bitch, you gotta pay for that

Your channel's free

(I'm gonna fucking kill you)

Uh

Imax shit, motherfucker

Yeah, suck my dick

Hey, ayo, I'm 'bout to start gamblin' with Ambien

I'm dutch smokin'

That's a strike but fuck bowlin', I could tearapin of Maryland

See, I'm American, apparently it's damagin'

To be in front of cameras in your underwear with Marilyn

Monroe lookin' dumb hoes who want too much dough

And come close to have you straight trippin' when you jump rope

Don't rock the love boat, this business fuckin' cutthroat

And it's gonna crack if you just paint the wall with one coat

Room's filled with blunt smoke, peep me through the fog

These rappers who be hatin' prolly need to get a job

See me, I'm with my squad, gettin' money, livin' comfortable

I know a couple hoes who model but they ugly though

Fuck a toast, y'all is fuckin' broke, cut your throat

Judgin' me is nothin' dope, boy, you lyin' under oath

God made the world, why did man make the scriptures

And if He created Lennon, why'd He go and make a Hitler?

I could take a photo but I'd rather paint a picture

Of the one Laurence Fishburne, we'll shoot up all you hipsters

I'm from Pittsburgh, that's black and gold

If my skin gets filled up, I'ma tat my soul

Runnin' out of paper, writin' on my hand

Hunnid thousand haters writin' 'bout my jams

Want a number one independent album, I'm your man

I'ma hit Prem and leave you all right where you stand