| Gun to my head, gold on my wrist
|
| Switch on my waist, tat on my lip
|
| Blood on my blade, watching you drip
|
| Numb in the face, watching me dip
|
| Gun to my head, gold on my wrist
|
| Switch on my waist, tat on my lip
|
| Blood on my blade, watching you drip
|
| Numb in the face, watching me
|
| Hundred new drop tops, smoke blunts non stop
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| I don’t really give a fuck, I’m running when the ops pop
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| Bright star, youngin' from the grave to the dungeon
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| Everything you’ve ever wanted, know I’ve already done it, yuh
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| Swear this life just way too crazy, yuh
|
| Scared I’ll be pushing up daises, aye
|
| Wished that I lived in the eighty’s, yuh
|
| In the graveyard on the daily
|
| Gun to my head, gold on my wrist
|
| Switch on my waist, tat on my lip
|
| Blood on my blade, watching you drip
|
| Numb in the face, watching me dip
|
| Gun to my head, gold on my wrist
|
| Switch on my waist, tat on my lip
|
| Blood on my blade, watching you drip
|
| Numb in the face, watching me
|
| I don’t wanna fucking crown
|
| I don’t wanna run around
|
| I just want to make it right
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| I don’t want to dumb it down
|
| I’ve been working every night
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| Scared that I’ma waste my life
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| But the racks treating me right, right, right |