Luyện nghe bài hát Dead People

in my pocket.
in my wallet.
If you talkin' my profit,
All I see is people.
All I see is people.
You starve so when my tryna make a couple dollars,
Any with a problem, they be dyin' over dead people.
Muthafuckin' people.

This gets deep.
Don't fuck me.
You end up six deep.
to how I did it.
I up slow on Willow.
Thinkin' climbin' through the fuckin' window.
In the backseat, burners.
Ski mask, bag, duct tape, and a pillow.
In the solo.
Sittin' low with the out.
Feelin' like Manson on Sonny Sam shit.
With a murder on my that my mind on the homicide,
And my watch said they time.
Somebody gotta die, line.
Front page, nine.
Headline: Columbine.
I plan and plot and strategized, and thought it.
Loaded up in the closet.
My is to get bloody.
can beg and plead, yell and scream.
Try to leave, get in cheese, pray to God on they knees, but I'm gettin' fucking ugly.
I fuckin' it.
Took this nigga by his and fuckin' cut it and thought nothin' of it.
simple insanity.
Just a fantasy.
It's insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Man, I feel killin me a mother fucka.)

night, I must've had a blast choppin up bodies.
Woke up as fuck in the hospital lobby.
Body with adrenaline.
Not rememberin what I did to get all blood on my fuckin' Timberlands.
Cop's I did what to him?
Showin me pictures of cut-up bitches, disfigured with body parts missin.
Listen, I do shit, I don't know shit.
Man, I don't give a fuck about bitch.
Fuck whatever she said, fuck whatever she saw, it me.
Oh no no, not me.
to the alibi.
I was at the movies, that shit,
them 3-D glasses on,
And that shit longer than fucka.
at my pocket, get the tickets though.
my alibi, bitch.
Now up?
Fresh out the cuffs, now I'm on the outside,
And headed where Homicide reside.
my nigga.
He live on 1st and 48th right to the white chalk in between the yellow tape,
Behind the gate.
Rottwielers and pitbulls, by snakes, AK's and AR's.
Some niggas hard to play, some niggas play
But that house right there, don't go in they
simple insanity.
Just a fantasy.
It's insanity.
Just a fantasy of mine.
(Man, I feel like killin me a fucka.)

Beware of dark shit, shot 'em through the
Tough offensive line men stop the blitz.
Them inside, a couple kittens
And this here, good riddance.
Nigga fuck around, it's for instance
Picture the of a bullet
Here I come I can smell the flesh for your head or neck.
Nigga, pray to God I won't hit chest.
Now I come straight outta drum, headed for your lungs.
You in my sight.
The one didn't do it right,
And I'm waitin.
Just at you.
Thinkin it and gettin tired of lookin at you.
Hi, daddy, me?
Goodbye, daddy, this is it gotta be.
You brought me in this world, now I'm you out.
Now you up your muthafuckin mouth.
insanity.
Just a fantasy.
insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Now I feel like killin me a fucka.)