(Akvri, hah)
What? Back home in the grave
Whip a, whip a hearse with the, with the Woodgrain
Ice-cold nights match the white gold chain
My brain is a burden and my mind is a maze
Lean with it, rock with it, dash got a Glock in it
Mick Foley pimpin', tell a bitch to put a sock in it
I ain't on the block with it, I'm under the rocks with it
Tombstone boy, pinky ring got diamond rocks in it
Glisten, give a fuck if you listen
Mike Klebold, pistol nine milli', go the distance
BONES too consistent, BONES why you trippin'
I ain't ceased, still lend assistance to delete your out existence
Sittin' in the shadow, my battle is on the inside
Me against myself, I'm willin' to bet that it won't end right
Woh, what happened to that boy?
Bitch, I'm stuntin' like my daddy glitchin' like some white noise
Young Peter Steele, dye it black, number one
'Nother hunnid tapes, after that, I'll be done
You be in the club throwin' up a lotta ones
I be in the mausoleum chillin', body numb
Skeletons in the backseat, weapons out the sunroof
Bitch, I go retarded, squeeze the trigger like, "What this gun do?"
You tell her to come through, I tell her to bounce out
I'm just tryna smoke and jump in the tub like it's Run's House
SESH
