Chocking them up With the grain in my cup I'm rolling up on you And into your house Burning an ounce Just to stay on the ground And killing you bitches if you too miss a count Chest throat killer Running out of liquor One hand on the blade One hand on the trigger The bodies are piling up in the river They see spooky black the wood grain gripper
Sipping bombay Don't give a fuck what they trying to say Spooky you handle this shit everyday Every scene I leave them in graves
I be smoking with a slut Pull the screen The deeper my blade it will cut Creeping low deep in the cut Creeping the sinner will feel it and be more corrupt
Running yo pockets and an another mention of the forest all up on my wrist If you pulling the trigger you better not miss Pulling yo bitch Doing our shit Ducking diving ghost Deep in the forest and hand on the smoke Pushing the blade, the back of your throat Tarmac fall back all black coat, bitch
I'm just trying to smoke Tec-9 behind all black coat Wishing that I was a ghost Bitch I am using as host Killing you losing your ho
Catching and jocking And creeping and stalking And deep in the ally the blunts I'm sparking Evil mark-ass bitches wana be me? Y'all just fucking starving!