[Verse 1: Atwood] My coffin's dripping blood My coughing f**ed me up Been coughing since the seventh grade The problem isn't d** I've had pneumonia twice Walked by d**h as we locked eyes Cracked my head in two When I was one and I could feel inside That d**h is nice A cold embrace to say the least I'll take that over no embrace any given day of the week I cough up blood Ruptured vessels, hocked up lungs A constant piercing in my chest anytime that I fill them up I think I'm dying But I ain't giving up I swear I'm trying momma, I just needa fix me up But a, couple more shots will surely hit the spot I'll end up like my pops Soon enough until my liver rots But pops ain't an alcoholic He just got some problems And if I die within the year just remember: I called it [Outro X2] My coffin's dripping blood My coughing f**ed me up Been coughing since the seventh grade... The problem isn't d** f**