Luyện nghe bài hát Dead People

in my pocket.
in my wallet.
If you talkin' my profit,
All I see is people.
All I see is people.
You starve so when my momma tryna make a dollars,
Any nigga a problem, they be dyin' over dead people.
Muthafuckin' people.

This shit deep.
fuck with me.
You end up six deep.
to how I did it.
I up slow on Willow.
Thinkin' climbin' through the fuckin' window.
In the backseat, burners.
Ski mask, bag, duct tape, and a pillow.
In the solo.
low with the lights out.
Feelin' like Manson on Sonny Sam shit.
With a murder on my mind that my on the homicide,
And my watch said outta time.
Somebody die, bottom line.
Front page, nine.
Headline: Columbine.
I and plot and strategized, and thought about it.
Loaded up in the closet.
My is to get bloody.
can beg and plead, yell and scream.
Try to leave, get in cheese, pray to God on they knees, but I'm gettin' fucking ugly.
I fuckin' it.
Took this nigga by his throat and fuckin' cut it and nothin' of it.
simple insanity.
Just a fantasy.
It's insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Man, I feel killin me a mother fucka.)

Last night, I must've had a blast up bodies.
Woke up bloody as in the hospital lobby.
Body filled adrenaline.
Not rememberin what I did to get all this blood on my Timberlands.
sayin I did what to him?
Showin me of cut-up bitches, disfigured members with body parts missin.
Listen, I do shit, I don't know shit.
Man, I don't give a about that bitch.
Fuck whatever she said, fuck she saw, it wasn't me.
Oh no no, not me.
to the alibi.
I was at the movies, Avatar shit,
With them 3-D on,
And that shit longer mother fucka.
at my pocket, get the tickets though.
my alibi, bitch.
Now up?
out the cuffs, now I'm back on the outside,
And headed where Homicide reside.
my nigga.
He live on 1st and 48th right to the white chalk in between the yellow tape,
Behind the gate.
Rottwielers and pitbulls, surrounded by snakes, and AR's.
niggas hard to play, some niggas play hard
But house right there, don't go in they yard
It's insanity.
Just a fantasy.
simple insanity.
Just a fantasy of mine.
(Man, I feel like me a mother fucka.)

Beware of shit, shot 'em through the fence
Tough offensive men couldn't stop the blitz.
Them niggas inside, a couple
And this here, good riddance.
fuck around, it's suicide for instance
Picture the of a bullet
Here I come I can smell the aimin' for your head or neck.
Nigga, pray to God I won't hit chest.
Now here I come straight drum, headed for your lungs.
You in my sight.
The last one do it right,
And I'm waitin.
lookin at you.
Thinkin about it and gettin tired of at you.
Hi, daddy, me?
Goodbye, daddy, this is it gotta be.
You brought me in world, now I'm takin you out.
Now you open up your mouth.
insanity.
Just a fantasy.
insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Now I like killin me a mother fucka.)