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 so when my momma tryna make a couple dollars,
Any with a problem, they be dyin' over dead people.
Muthafuckin' people.

This shit deep.
Don't fuck me.
You end up six deep.
to how I did it.
I up slow on Willow.
Thinkin' 'bout climbin' through the window.
In the backseat, burners.
Ski mask, bag, duct tape, and a pillow.
In the solo.
Sittin' low with the out.
like Manson on some Sonny Sam shit.
With a murder on my mind that my on the homicide,
And my watch they outta time.
gotta die, bottom line.
Front page, nine.
Another Columbine.
I plan and and strategized, and thought about 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 knees, but I'm still gettin' fucking ugly.
I love it.
Took nigga 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 feel like me a mother fucka.)

Last night, I had a blast choppin up bodies.
Woke up as fuck in the hospital lobby.
filled with adrenaline.
Not rememberin what I did to get all blood on my fuckin' Timberlands.
sayin I did what to him?
Showin me pictures of cut-up bitches, disfigured with body parts missin.
Listen, I ain't do shit, I don't shit.
Man, I don't give a fuck that bitch.
Fuck whatever she said, whatever she saw, it wasn't me.
Oh no no, not me.
to the alibi.
I was at the movies, that shit,
With them 3-D on,
And that shit longer mother 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 west Homicide reside.
my nigga.
He live on 1st and 48th next to the white chalk in between the yellow tape,
Behind the gate.
Rottwielers and pitbulls, surrounded by snakes, and AR's.
Some niggas hard to play, some play hard
But house right there, don't go in they yard
It's insanity.
Just a fantasy.
simple insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Man, I feel like me a mother fucka.)

Beware of dark shit, shot 'em the fence
Tough offensive line men stop the blitz.
niggas inside, a couple kittens
And this here, good riddance.
fuck around, it's suicide for instance
Picture the mind of a
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 last one do it right,
And I'm waitin.
lookin at you.
Thinkin about it and 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 open up your mouth.
insanity.
Just a fantasy.
insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Now I feel like me a mother fucka.)