[Intro: NORTHSIDE $HAWTY] Yah, yah, $carecrow, Ruby stay runnin' $carecrow, $carecrow, $carecrow, $carecrow, $care-, Norfside, Shit, where the fuck that been? R.I.P $lick $loth [Verse 1: NORTHSIDE $HAWTY] Playa hataz surround me like vultures on a dead body Get the fuck from 'round me Ain't tryna be yo' fuckin' friend (aye) White boy with the nappy hair Bought the platinums, nah, not double-O, bruh Bunch of all you thirsty 30 somethin' motherfucker bald head headass Boy, get off this playa's nuts Test your luck, might catch slugs This that middle finger up Shit, fuck a bitch And fuck you too for thinkin' we would not make it Tell me really (How does it feel?) If you were in the field believin' the vision that we living Fuck the fluxes, no competition We got the leverage Fuck you punks; we stock weapons 47's 45's Tec's Poles on deck, cut-throat, boy There's more than one reason that I'm a- [Verse 2: RUBY SOHO] Broke boy ain't broke I gotta a lotta fuckin' bread Now I've seen the globe But for now, the loaves sitting in my right and left pockets Now my pockets got a lot of fucking holes leaving trails of the crumbs So them fuckboys will follow, yeah Fill up that hollow stomach with my sorrow Tomorrow ain't promised a tough pill to swallow But Roxycodone ain't a tough pill to snort It's a tough pill to kick Always fall short Standin' tall with my vice, fuck y'all for the sport The money, the bitches, the fame feelin' like a whore Now I'm smokin' more ports, and I'm closer to death Then I was when I was poor Cooking pizzas in the kitchen passin' out on the couch I'll die from being bored He'll die from bein' bored Sing a sad ass song with just four chords, oh lord Sing a sad ass song, another death in the 7th Ward, oh lord Sing a sad ass song for Yung Snow, putting in hours at the morgue Sing a sad ass song for another tally on the sword Blizzard storm when I fucking mourn
[Intro: $LICK $LOTH] Yah, yah, $carecrow, Ruby stay runnin' $carecrow, $carecrow, $carecrow, $carecrow, $care- Norf'side, shit, where the fuck that been? R.I.P $lick $loth [Verse 1: $LICK $LOTH] Playa haters surround me like vultures on a dead body Get the fuck from 'round me, ain't tryna be yo' fuckin' friend (ayy) White boy with the nappy hair Bought the platinums, nah, not double-O, bruh Bunch of all you thirsty Thirty somethin' motherfucker bald head headass Boy, get off this playa's nuts Test yo' luck, might catch slugs This that middle finger up Shit, fuck a bitch And fuck you too for thinkin' we would not make it Tell me really (How does it feel?) If you were in the field believin' the vision that we living Fuck the fluxes of competition, we got the leverage Fuck you punks, we stock weapons .47s, .45s, TECs, poles on deck Cut Throat, boy There's more than one reason that I'm a- [Verse 2: YUNG $NOW] Broke boy, ain't broke I got a lotta fucking bread, now I've seen the globe But for now the loaves sittin' in the right and left pockets Now my pockets got a lot of fuckin' holes Leaving trails of the crumbs so them fuckboys will follow, yeah Fill up that hollow stomach with my sorrow Tomorrow ain't promised a tough pill to swallow But Roxycodone ain't a tough pill to snort, it's a tough pill to kick Always fall short, standin' tall with my vice, fuck y'all for the sport The money, the bitches, the fame, feelin' like a whore Now I'm smokin' more ports And I'm closer to death than I was when I was poor Cooking pizzas in the kitchen, passin' out on the couch I'll die from being bored (He'll die from bein' bored!) Sing a sad ass song with just four chords, oh lord Sing a sad ass song, another death in the 7th Ward, oh lord Sing a sad ass song for Yung $now, putting in hours at the morgue Sing a sad ass song for another tally on the sword Blizzard storm when I fucking mourn
Playa haters surround me like vultures on a dead body Get the fuck from 'round me Ain't tryna be yo' fuckin' friend (aye) White boy with the nappy hair Bought the platinums, nah, not double-O, bruh Bunch of all you thirsty 30 somethin' motherfucker bald head headass Boy, get off this playa's nuts Test yo' luck, might catch slugs This that middle finger up Shit, fuck a bitch And fuck you too for thinkin' we would not make it Tell me really (How does it feel?) If you were in the field believin' the vision that we living Fuck the fluxes, no competition We got the leverage Fuck you punks; we stock weapons 47's, 45's, Tec's, poles on deck Cut Throat, boy There's more than one reason that I'm a-
Broke boy, ain't broke I got a lotta fuckin' bread, now I've seen the globe But for now the loaves Sitting in my right and left pockets Now my pockets got a lot of fucking holes leaving trails of the crumbs So them fuckboys will follow, yeah Fill up that hollow stomach with my sorrow Tomorrow ain't promised a tough pill to swallow But Roxycodone ain't a tough pill to snort It's a tough pill to kick Always fall short Standin' tall with my vice, fuck y'all for the sport The money, the bitches, the fame, feelin' like a whore Now I'm smokin' more ports, and I'm closer to death Then I was when I was poor Cooking pizzas in the kitchen, passin' out on the couch I'll die from being bored (He'll die from bein' bored!) Sing a sad ass song with just four chords, oh lord Sing a sad ass song, another death in the 7th Ward, oh lord Sing a sad ass song for Yung Snow, putting in hours at the morgue Sing a sad ass song for another tally on the sword Blizzard storm when I fucking mourn
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