Theme Music E

Slay product. Clothes is black, so is the nine. Correct. Shots in through your chest and out your Spine. Speed off in the S line, Clap your chest line. Trust. I'll be with your bitch, you'll be eating through A drip. You niggas ain't quick to draw, I'm quick to pour. Shots in your chest and Jaw. Bang. Smooth like Bond with a.44 long. In a Benzy coupe like tomato soup. A and Panoramic roof so your bitch can see The view. Have Jimmy Choos, alligator, Money maker. Me and SN and SMB. Pa-pow. Big four, nicknamed the resting piece. Alas. You'll be resting when the trigger's Pressured. Your mum's stressing. Gone. I'll be somewhere hot, high topped, Looking like I stepped in blood. EA7 Camorra style, all black Christians and they're Velvet now. Grey Beamer with the limo tint. You can't see RE when he's creeping. No. I'm done speaking. Barrel spins, leave lungs Bleeding. Now you're coughing and wheezing and your Soul's leaving. S3, matte black, Clap back. You'll be on the floor with your Face cracked. Trust. RE, ghost like SB. Yes. Heated seats in the Range G. On Fuck your wifey. Yes. Seatbelt, seat low, back of the Jeep like I'm filming a porno. Straight..44 blow take your lung out. Before I had a whip, I had a chrome First. Back when riding weeknights was my homework. Home. Long time your favorite rapper been mad Fronting. Joke. Scream my nigga RE to come snatch Something. I want say, yeah. Swerving in the German With the xenons. Armed with the ten up, Theme music, The Memoir. Uh, my Spanish bitch call me Senor. I got short man syndrome, RIP to Chris Benoit. Snap. Get a nigga whacked, nigga okie dokie. Class. Godfather snipe, call me Corleone. Yeah. Niggas mad 'cause I fucking speak to Coley. Coley. Niggas mad, eight bags on the Rollie. Okay. Fuck niggas. Fuck niggas. I don't trust niggas. Uh-uh. I'm in the C class. Skrrt. In the cut, nigga. White tee. White tee. Balmain jacket. Yeah. I'm in the plush B, you're standing in the Rain, faggot. Waste man. Top floor. Top floor. Panoramic with the.45. Al Capone, I'm real callous. Class. I'm a fly boy. Emporio Armani. I don't wanna talk unless it Involves money. Free from me. Guess what? This jacket's from Guess, darg. Shoot, hit his head top. Bang. Head rock, up close and personal, red dot. Yeah. Head, chest, and neck shot, rest off. Turn nigga cabbage to veg, darg. Alas. I be in the Lex with a Tec, Darg. I don't text chat, nigga, tech one. VIP lounge, we in the best spot. Turn nigga's hoodie to a vest top. S Capone the best, darg. Uh. Yeah. All I know is beef. Beef. These niggas want peace. Me my.44 long. Long. Married to the streets. I marinate the beef. Okay. Guys listening to me. Yeah, yeah. Slay product. cold like Moscow. Cold. No gun, I'ma shoot him with a crossbow. Class. Uh, I'ma catch you at the crossroad. Before I had a whip, I had a chrome First. Back when riding weeknights was my homework. Home. Long time your favorite rapper been mad Fronting. Joke. Scream my nigga RE to come snatch Something. I want say, yeah. Swerving in the German With the xenons. Armed with the ten up, Theme music, The Memoir. Uh, my Spanish bitch call me Senor. I got short man syndrome, RIP to Chris Benoit. Mac with a muffler, put your face in a Rubble. Snap. Since the age of 13, been in And out of trouble. Okay. Driving up to Brum for a brick of the Rubble. Okay. Nigga test me, I'ma feed him pipe. Pipe. Had the doctors and nurses trying to keep Him alive. I'll shoot him in his chest, Heart, bone, and spine. Capone, S Capone, bitch say my name. Snap. Bitch, I'm hard to kill like David Blaine. Yeah. Superman ain't saved this shit, I killed Lois Lane. Yeah. bricks, same clip, nigga, Nothing's changed. Same rules, new players, That's just the game. I remember days getting sent to the shops. Okay. Now I run the blocks, hollow tips in My Glock. the boss. My name rings bells from Busts and murders and shooting niggas. Snap. All my niggas is Gucci and Lumi niggas. Beef, I'ma shoot these niggas. 30 steel remove these niggas. Class..34 stainless, I'll show you how to kill These niggas. Okay. Uh, man don't stand for freedom Of mind. Mind. Mike Corleone shit. I be on some ghost shit. If I wave my stick, hocus pocus. Abracadabra, blood gone splatter. Abracadabra. I've got best beat, press keys, hacker. All gold everything, shabba. Shabba. Me and Reeks back to back capper. Reeks. Tom Ford glove, nigga, napper. Napper. Shots blacker, blacker. Rolling through the manor. Skrrt. Shoot him in the arm then I'm breezing off To Tubbard. Uh. Before I had a whip, I had a chrome First. Back when riding weeknights was my homework. Home. Long time your favorite rapper been mad Fronting. Joke. Scream my nigga RE to come snatch Something. I want you say, yeah. Swerving in the German with the xenons. Armed with the ten up, theme music, The Memoir. Uh, my Spanish bitch call me Senor. I got short man syndrome, RIP to Chris Benoit. Slay product.