Dead Presidents
Lyrics
(Ran out with the face-paint)
(What, what, what? What?)
Whoa Kenny!
Dead presidents, hop out with the face-paint
We was chasin' cake, we was tryna rob a bank
Dead presidents, hop out with the face-paint
We was chasin' cake, we was tryna rob a bank
You was soldiered down 'fore you did all of them drugs
(Now you strung out)
Remember you was soldiered down 'fore you did all of them drugs
(Now you strung out)
Dead presidents, hop out with the face-paint
You Keith David, you Chris Tucker, I'm Larenz Tate
Dead presidents, your friend's face
All my friends are dead, yeah
Or they in the feds, yeah
All my niggas upstate
Niggas steady livin' through a pen', yeah
Feelin' like we shoulda went to Penn State
I be in the trap, fuck me damn straight
Yeah, got some guns in the trash can
Yeah, run it up, I need a damn bag
Dead presidents, hop out with the face-paint
We was chasin' cake, we was tryna rob a bank
Dead presidents, hop out with the face-paint
We was chasin' cake, we was tryna rob a bank
You was soldiered down 'fore you did all of them drugs
(Now you strung out)
Remember you was soldiered down 'fore you did all of them drugs
(Now you strung out)
Dead presidents, hop out with the face-paint
Now you strung out
You can't even pull your gun out
You the reason he got gunned down
And that's why you don't come 'round
You like you ain't from 'round
Fuck around get gunned down, hoe you who we can't trust now
Ooh, this is not what you're 'bout
We the type to jump out
We ain't chasin' no clout
We want all the money, dead presidents
We want all the money, no evidence
Murder these niggas for money
Want just the money
I ain't got a lot
She fell in love with all my lyrics
'Cause they ain't no lie
Dead presidents, hop out with the face-paint
We was chasin' cake, we was tryna rob a bank
Dead presidents, hop out with the face-paint
We was chasin' cake, we was tryna rob a bank
You was soldiered down 'fore you did all of them drugs
(Now you strung out)
Remember you was soldiered down 'fore you did all of them drugs
(Now you strung out)
Dead presidents, hop out with the face-paint
Dead, dead, dead pres'
Money on your head, dead presidents
Greedy 'cause I'm dead
Got some guns in the trash can, yeah
Run it up, I need a damn bag
Writer(s): Jason Jamal Jackson, Kenneth Charles III Blume
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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