CEMETERY RITUAL

It's the evil son, cold as hell, Night or darkness where I dwell. Smoking blunts back to back, let me get another Sack. Ain't no counting, got me dreaming of a Murder plot. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Slapping bitches, smoking sticky, Red upon my victim. Got that fire in my system, fly nice is What I'm getting. Dropping bombs on the track, It's the new me and hell. Busters hating on us, but we don't give a Damn. I'll be letting your face dangle off the Wall, fucking skull. Wicked to the bone, in my coffin taking souls. Leaning back up on the track, serving yams to Them junkies. Twenty-four seven, but still I'm lacing something. Learn to bite the lemons if you really wanna Get paid. And working for a living, But I'm hungry for a twelve gauge. Learn to bite the lemons if you really wanna Get paid. And working for a living, But I'm hungry for twelve- Shit, I'm tryna make a million seventy. No PND, I break inside your house and take Your car. In your BMW, I'm breaking down your Soul. I can't be going out of style, check. Talking tough but he ends up a deadie, got His head wrecked. Slanging crack to tons of junkies, Lace the track with something funky. Act on the set, then we drag him through A nerver. While we ride to a cemetery, Ending in the mortuary. When I close my eyes, I see a Murder