MARKED FOR DELETION - $outh $ide $uicide lyrics

[Verse 1: Slick Sloth] Outside in an all black ride Tint rolled up when I'm high Said they all wanna live but I just wanna die Motherf**er if you're looking for me find me in the night I got a knife don't want to fight I want to take your f**ing life and end it right on sight When I strike, if you bark better bite Block hot, f** the cops Pop a 6 shot Glock then I trot to the rocks with me own blood clot Red dot, bodies drop when I co*k then I spot No tomb, no plot, throw them off of the yacht Undocked with the slot of the skull hanging in the f**ing river, ho $uicide, 666, *59 so cynical [Verse 2: Yung Plague] 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 Swervin', Swervin' in a motherf**ing all white Crown Vic Blue lights mounted, Siren howlin' Stole it from a cop because he popped another brown kid Got the town lit up by the flames that I made from my grey serenade Make way for the Plague On the 7th day grey bodies lay in their graves Still got the badge still got the gun Still got the patch still got the stun Still got the cash b**h I burn it for fun Put the Glock to my skull then I - [Verse 3: Pouya] Yuh, yuh, yuh South Side $uicide, k** 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 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 b**h "You better get up out my biz" Pickle-breath-a** ho with a face like his 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 an interview Don't come close to me I'm not the one to really do it how it's 'sposed to be Independent, tell the label to get over me I'm over here with my peers gettin' rich point blank Before I bring her to the crew make sure that b**h don't stink Ain't no rules to the game, talk how you want Walk how you want, my job is the sh** I used to clean up sh** from the rim of the toilet Now I'm gettin' money, I don't gotta pack a pistola Okay, maybe, cause jealousy make a man go crazy Money make a motherf**er hate me One thousand b**hes they all wanna date me