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 my momma tryna make a couple dollars,
Any nigga with a problem, they be over dead people.
dead people.

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

night, I must've had a blast choppin up bodies.
Woke up bloody as in the hospital lobby.
filled with adrenaline.
Not rememberin I did to get all this blood on my fuckin' Timberlands.
Cop's sayin I did what to
Showin me pictures of cut-up bitches, members 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 she saw, it wasn't me.
Oh no no, not me.
to the alibi.
I was at the movies, that shit,
With 3-D glasses on,
And shit longer than mother fucka.
Look at my pocket, get the though.
my alibi, bitch.
Now up?
Fresh out the cuffs, now I'm on the outside,
And west where Homicide reside.
my nigga.
He live on 1st and 48th right next to the white in between the yellow tape,
Behind the gate.
Rottwielers and pitbulls, surrounded by snakes, and AR's.
Some niggas to play, some niggas play hard
But house right there, don't go in they yard
simple insanity.
Just a fantasy.
It's insanity.
a murderous fantasy of mine.
(Man, I feel killin me a mother fucka.)

Beware of shit, shot 'em through the fence
Tough offensive line men couldn't the blitz.
Them inside, a couple kittens
And this here, good riddance.
Nigga fuck around, suicide for instance
Picture the mind of a
Here I come I can smell the flesh aimin' for 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 last one do it right,
And I'm waitin.
Just at you.
Thinkin about it and gettin tired of 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 killin me a mother fucka.)