Outside in an all black ride, tint rolled up when I'm high Said they all wanna live, but I just wanna die Mo-Motherfucker, if you're looking for me, find me in the night I got a knife, don't wanna fight I wanna take your fucking life, and end it right on sight When I strike, if you bark, better bite Block hot, fuck the cops, pop a six-shot Glock Then I trot to the rocks, with me own blood clot Red-dot, bodies drop when I cock, then I spot No tomb, no plot, throw 'em off of the yacht, undocked With the slot of the skull hangin' in the fucking river, ho $ui-$uicide, 6-6-6, 59, so cynical Got a pound in the blunt, I'm loungin' Pour another round, I'm drownin' Climb to the top, I will jump off the mountain, ayy Swerv-swervin' in a motherfucking all-white Crown Vic' Blue light mounted, siren howlin' Stole it from a cop because he popped another brown kid (ayy) Got the town lit up by the flame that I made From my grey serenade, make way for the Plague On the seventh day, grey bodies lay in they graves Still got the badge, still got the gun Still got the patch, still got the stun Still got the cash, bitch, I burn it for fun Put the Glock to my skull then I— Yuh, yuh, yuh $outh $ide $uicide, kill yourself, ho Say you gettin' money, but your numbers don't show, you a liar Baseball bat fully wrapped in barbed wire For anyone that's tryna get by us (bitch) I been thinkin' a lot, I see these rappers tryna get at my spot Robb told me: You gotta get it how you live Told that bitch: You better get up out my biz Pickle-breath-ass ho with a face like thizz (Shut the fuck up) You don't want no issue with Nose seen more blow than most nose seen a tissue I got anxiety so I can't really do a interview Don't come close to me I'm not the one to really do it how it's 'posed to be Independent, tell that label to get over me I'm over here with my peers, gettin' rich point blank Before I bring her to the crib, make sure that bitch don't stink Ain't no rules to the game, talk how you want (yuh) Walk how you want (yuh), my job is the shit I used to clean up shit from the rim of the toilet Now I'm gettin' money, I don't gotta pack a pistola Okay, maybe (maybe) 'Cause jealousy make a man go crazy Money make a motherfucker hate me One thousand bitches, they all wanna date me