Текст песни Murder He Wrote - Chetta , Scrim

Woah
Hit the road
Windows frozen
I'm ghost
Overdose
Do the most
When I pour
Murder he wrote, wrote

Full of that dope, dope
Get smoked, smoked
Eye through the scope, scope
Riding low, low
Sitting on low pro
They holla woah woah
When I hit the north shore
In my zone, zone
Eyes on the po, po
Savage mode, mode
Lil cut-throat, throat

You know I'm riding
With my head up high
Another day they
Tryna take my pride
Step aside
Let me fortify
Aye
Bust they head, with the forty-five
Hot drop
Drop top
Top drop
Bullets dropping 'cause they hot
Slicky empty out the clip
You see these cuts on my wrist
Life a bitch
Knife slit
God-damn, I can't lie, I'm fucking sick
Purple got me feeling funny
Blood money
Fifty thousand dollar diamonds
I ain't bust out yet
Creeping, you can't see me ducking
In the corner
Paint wet
With that choppa on my lap
That's a bet

Hit the road
Windows frozen
I'm ghost
Overdose
Do the most
When I pour
Murder he wrote, wrote
Full of that dope, dope
Get smoked, smoked
Eye through the scope, scope
Riding low, low
Sitting on low pro
They holla woah woah
When I hit the north shore
In my zone, zone
Eyes on the po, po
Savage mode, mode
Lil cut-throat, throat

Break me down to pieces
You know all my rights, yeah
I could never change up
Never switch my side, yeah
Split a couple xans
Till we feel alright, yeah
Smoking out the pound
Oh, that's they feature price, yeah
When I die, bury me where they don't go
Pull up cold on the scene
With my eyes low
Savage mode, cut-throat, let em know
(Let em know!)
Let 'em know I want that
Mother fucking smoke, smoke
I been outchea getting throwed
On the northside
Family changing, people dying
But it's alright
Money coming, money going
That's the life right?
Right, right, right
Always sipping on my problems
Need some hi-tech
Wipe your tears in your eyes
You can't break that
Keep it real
Keep it a hundo
You ain't 'bout that
Say lil bro
I got you 'til my fucking life black

Hit the road
Windows frozen
And I'm ghost
Overdose
Do the most
When I pour
Murder he wrote, wrote
Full of that dope, dope
Get smoked, smoked
Eye through the scope, scope
Riding low, low
Sitting on low pro
They holla woah, woah
When I hit the north shore
In my zone, zone
Eyes on the po, po
Savage mode, mode
Lil cut-throat, throat

You know I'm riding
With my head up high
Another day they
Tryna take my pride
Step aside
Let me fortify
Bust a hit for the forty-five