Looking over my shoulder I see that reaper creeping Death is near So I keep my finger on the trigger of my nine Creepin' through the hood Fellas up to no good There is death in the air (death in the air)
Rolling deep through your set With my black ski mask And my hood up tight (hood up tight) Forty in my hand and blunt lit on my right Your family won't live to see the light Through all this death and despair She is always there This hoe has me hooked on her vibe Her essence fills my body I can feel her everywhere Mary Jane take me into the light Grinding it up Rolling it up Smoking it Cutting it up Stacking a bowl Smoke a hit
Bloodshot eyes, four xannies in my veins Fuck I'll be lucky if I make it through today Grinding it up Rolling it up Fuck a bitch Loading it up Strappin' it up Bust a nine Death is near So I keep my finger on the trigger of my nine
Invoke the smoke /x2 Smoking Bong hits every night Till the break of dawn Invoke the smoke /Life is shit and we're all gonna die So mind as well grab that Bong and come get high/x4 Smoke it upTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
