Song Lyrics
Even the preacher and all my teachers couldn t reach me, pussy and paper is poetry
when i get to poppin
niggas is hot when i hit the block
If i die 2nite, my last breath
Pockets is packed with presidents, pockets is packed with presidents, if i die 2nite
If i die 2nite, my last breath, polishin pistols
Bury me a motherfuckin g, repeat two lines til fade
Then they done, if i die 2nite
Addicted to drama, jealous niggas and broke bitches equal packed jails, if i die 2nite
praying for punishment and pain
if i die 2nite
Come collect the fuckin corpse, my pistol possee using deadly force 2Nite, keep a weapon close
Individuals with no remorse, polishin pistols
If i die 2nite, disrespecting the game
Disrespecting the game, the game should be sold
Running with criminal, i run in the streets and puffin weed with my peeps, if i die 2nite
Motherfuckers don t understand, pistol-whippin any simps
jealous niggas and broke bitches equal packed jails
They say pussy and paper is poetry, bury me a motherfuckin g
hit the block and fill your pockets makin crack sales
I hit the weed as i m clutchin my glock, 2nite s the night i get in some shit
But trust me holms, if i die 2nite
Never the witness to wicked shit that they was facin, callin the coroner, going insane
Pistol-whippin any simps, and a spot for drug dealers
callin the coroner
pussy and paper is poetry
But if i die tonite, my pistol possee using deadly force If, come collect the fuckin corpse
Going insane, sick of pscyhotic society
Motherfuckers don t understand, 357s to the sky, closed casket
plottin on murderin motherfuckers before they get you