Luyện nghe bài hát Dead People

in my pocket.
in my wallet.
If you 'bout my profit,
All I see is people.
All I see is people.
You starve so when my tryna make a couple dollars,
Any nigga with a problem, they be dyin' dead people.
dead 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.
low with the lights out.
Feelin' like on some Sonny Sam shit.
With a on my mind that my mind on the homicide,
And my watch said they time.
gotta die, bottom line.
Front page, nine.
Headline: Columbine.
I and plot 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, to God on they knees, but I'm still gettin' fucking ugly.
I fuckin' it.
Took this nigga by his throat and cut it and thought nothin' of it.
It's insanity.
Just a fantasy.
It's insanity.
Just a fantasy of mine.
(Man, I feel like me a mother fucka.)

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

Beware of shit, shot 'em through the fence
offensive line men couldn't stop the blitz.
Them 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 aimin' for your head or neck.
Nigga, pray to God I won't hit chest.
Now here I come straight drum, headed for your lungs.
You in my sight.
The last one do it right,
And I'm waitin.
Just at you.
about it and gettin tired of lookin at you.
Hi, daddy, me?
Goodbye, daddy, this is it gotta be.
You brought me in world, now I'm takin you out.
Now you up your muthafuckin mouth.
insanity.
Just a fantasy.
insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Now I feel like me a mother fucka.)