(Yeah, man) (ay, ay, ay)
Reach into my pocket, then I grab a couple crumbled hunnids
We look like some crumbled hunnids
Blunted out, then fuzz is something
Paranoia, turn my stomach, H1 Hummer, rough and rugged
Desert camo truck to the front, shirt unbuttoned, seat adjusted
One hundred miles per hour, bitch, I seem accustomed
'Til life in the fast lane nothing
And the motherfucking gas tank dumpin' ashes and laughin'
Fucking duckin' what comes from the government
Peelin' out until the sunset, eyes so low, look like a sunset
Grey59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey59, bitch, I signed my life away (always)
Back on my bullshit
Now I have to pay a bet
Put my foot on the fuckin' brakes
Silent for life, he came Yung Christ
All I got was a deathwish and centrepiece of $uicide
Fuck this ego, fuck this rap
Easily execution, on my side
Homicide, homicide but we used to all the time
We in the Benz, off the benzos our depression clinical (right)
You hear me?
We in the Benz, off the benzos our depression clinical, clinical, clinical
(Back of mind, motherfucker) $uicide
$uicide
$uicide
Grey59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey59, bitch, I signed my life away (always)
We are tired of this new world
I don't want to be here
$uicide, $uicide, my end
$uicide, $uicide, my end
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son (yeah, yeah)
Meet me by the moon (right)
Half past dusk (fuck that)
Back from the dust, Cut Throat
He loves them drugs and guns
Jump in the cut, got about 20k and a gun (what?)
Got a bottle of Adderall, cigarette butts, every day adds up
Do I look like I give a fuck? (no)
Every day of every month (what?)
Bloody knife serving them DA
Death will be right in front of ya', yeah (what?)
Still wouldn't recognize her (hold up)
Got a death list
That's somethin' still gotta catch this
Plus, suck the dick quick, die bitch, die, bitch
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
Ay, you ever had to dig your own grave?
Live your life with no name? Backwood full of romaine
Okay '96 Benz with the cocaine paint, hoe
High until my death, I got a propane tank low
Gas seeping all over the house until my say-so
Light the fucking match, let that tank blow
So glad I stayed home
Someone called the cops on the payphone
Flames all around me, man I hope they fucking drown me
Crown made of ashes, only way they fucking found me
Forget about me, only way you might not feel so lousy
Forget about me, on my own head out with the price, the bounty
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son
In New Orleans, there were many bizarre things I always saw
Growing up here, especially in the graveyards
And as a child, I spent a lot of time in the graveyards
And as an adult, I still spend a lot of time in the graveyards
But as a child, it was a regular weekend thing to do
I always needed to know why
Uhm, sometimes my why's got me in trouble
For my last trick, got 'em thinking I'm cut out for this rap shit
Ay, you wanna keep going, or? (Nah, that's it)
$uicide I'm fucking screamin' from the rooftop
The only thing I ever did worth mentioning ever since $lick
Burn me a CD of Lil Wayne, that shit probably still in my boombox
But nowadays I keep walking to an establishment that selling myself on a fucking jukebox
If I wanted to cop a black Countach
Rob that shit like two blocks
And then smash in the back of a new cop car now I think I'm on a two
Yeah, just get a bunch of face tats
It's gonna be cool (man, fuck you) (Souncloud this, Soundcloud that)
(Why you acting like such a bitch?) (Hey man, cut that shit off)
(Hey man, you boys suck man, garbage, man) (Fuck the $uicideboy$)
(You sound like a fucking generic Three 6, man)
(I don't even got the hair growing in anyways, man)
(Get the fuck out of here, shitty-ass music) (fuck you, little dumb bitch)
(Change the station, you're fucking wack) (little whore)
(Little whore) (you're way too fucking short, get the fuck outta here)
Yeah, still feel like I'm losing, ay
Me and kin still feel like we losing, ay
Ay, we still feel like we losing, ay, losing, losing
I'm on the lean, yeah, that drank
I'm on them bars, blowing thing
I'm on a lot, amphetamines, got no time for sleep
Lost in my thoughts, I don't know who a friend or who a enemy
Nurtured and disturbed, down from head to toe
Have feelings sometimes gotta let it go
Plenty of days, thought shit was over
Create a other movement, created other music
Still feel like I'm losing
