Drugs/Hoes/Money/Etc.

Counting sheep until I'm sound sleep

I'm lounging deep in a grave I found

Without a sound or peep, I lay in the grond

6 feet

Slick as sleet

Sneaking a beat

Let the breath leak out my mouth

Bitch, I want your skull

Fuck what's under your skirt

You broke my heart and now Ima ima make you hurt

Stomp you on the curb and then I'll throw you in the dirt

Give you back to the Earth

Girl you were something special

Yeah you were my fucking first

You want to cuddle?

We can cuddle in the back of the fucking hearse

I don't need your sympathy

Make them bitches sing for me

Caught up in reality, smoking on some fantasy

Put the gun against my head

Pull the trigger now I'm dead

Bitches wanna count my bread

Only let them give me head

Sleeping in a tulip bed

Smoking green and seeing red

Loading up the clip with lead

Trigger finger soft as thread

No jewels, no chains, I like it that way

Don't know what I'm up to until that Glock in your face

I pop that bitch and I spray

Got these hoes on delay

All it take is one word they do whatever I say