[Verse 1]
Shotty under the seat, windows tinted and up
Runners walk in the streets, numbers folded and stuffed
Into the bicycle spokes with little men watching the corners
[?] Around walking the beat the living, don't need your mourning, they need a fix
Tell 'em this song is it
This is the hours of terror you walk from minutes of bliss
This is the sh** you don't tell noone you want to see cry
Cause (No one wants their friends to die)
This is the necessary transaction to keep your economy active
Activation, demographics, keep all the alliances pa**ing
Pa**ing the pistol man, they whistling shots
Pick up the juice in the fizzle baby he ain't getting caught
Put the freebase away, cause the block got hot
(We make the day go hop hop hop)
Yeah, we bring the yeah, you're cops on cop
Bullets gon' spray, the choppers gon' chop
[Hook]
This song is a drug deal
This song will f** you up
This song will get s**ers k**ed
This song don't give a f**
This song is probably your phone held in a styrafoam cup
You should play this song if you want to get turned up
[Verse 2]
Nights with no stars in the city with more cars than spaces
Outside clubs where inside suits talk TV sipping ace of spades
You can call it (Shangri-la)
As long as all your shades are dark enough (Shangri-la)
Keep your veil on where you're married to the [?] ([?])
And if you've seen it ([?])
And when you s** on whats in this it is the closest thing to God
Take a walk to the smell of rotting life in the air on a trail of smoke
Wrapped in a swisher sweet like dreams are made of these evoke
A black Saturn with the top all ragged in the alley way off of seventh street
And the beat down low with a shift in park and the glow of the lamplight flickering
And a group of men with their clothes all red being nonchalant
With the ambiance is obviously dagger to the jugular
Who want to f** with the waiting room for the voluntary incremental suicide
Is a suicide with suicide with thirty eyes like "who am I"
But it look like "who are you"
And If you here you look too
Like [?] like on ragtime bagtime bagpipe hit it, don't stop get it
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Everyday decapatation ordinary pain
In the bloodshot windows to the soul when pushes are inane
And turn the dial to the right is the only thing you gain
Thirty years of turning trickster trees and blaming it on rain
([?] Like the real thing!)
So you keep the coke dryest
([?])
This paint job the flyest
(Talkin' 'bout you and me baby!)
This some sh** you should see baby
This, this sh** ain't free yeah you should bring the money to me
You wanna hear cause you're pipe on E
And you're skin all itchin and instead they hitting
And they never miss and you miss your mom
And you missed your calling because you came up to [?]
And your b**h is what, b**h is what?
Hold up, who you calling a b**h?
You and ITS is what we move and may God bless
[Hook]