Kickin it wit my homie scoob it's half past 4
He Rollin a blunt and I'm sittin there thinkin about how life gets old
Sometimes all I really wanna do is dissappear in a cloud of black smoke
And then reappear like houdini
With no feelins no feelins to show
And I got these chains
Got these rusty chains around my ankles
And on the other end I see Satan pullin me as I dangle
Down down
Into the unknown abyss
And I'm wishin I could just come back one more time so I could settle shit
But I can't
So jump on in the fire is great
So many Mothafuckas told me I would end up in this lake
For loading a 9 millimeter into my Glock and then to my brain
But shouts out to Alex Crowley yo writing is keepin me sane
Now take caution cause im killin bustas
With a Glock 45
Ramirez in the cut go run and hide
Fuckin wit me and it be yo demise
Triple six is was im reppin
Creepin out that fuckin dungeon
Schema Posse G*59
You better start to count yo blessins
As i kills you when i pulls up inside of my chevy thang
Smoked out loced out
Im steady gankin on them bustas mane
Pullin out the street sweeper
I got ana off my chest
With any busta mothafucka who be tryna test
[?] Not givin a fuck
I'm fuckin shit up
Knuckin and buckin im servin these suckas
I'm whipin these Glocks so be ready to run
Cause im on the hunt
Choppin bitches heads off
Throw em inside of the shadow, bitch
Aim yo Glock so fuckin quick cause im burnin up yo body bitch

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