Lyrics Black Roses - Elvae

Ain't no need for begging you crying wasting tears;
The reaper hears you calling; its time to face your fears;
Get real; this top tier; I'm dramatic
Ready for all the static; it's no shock
Mental is a straight labyrinth; get lost
Pop goes the weasel; the weasel gets pops;
Steady at the top; if I tilt; theres no falling;
The glass is half shattered;
Im breaking through this my calling; step on any head; I'm cut throat;
Like a sovereign; ruling over niggas;
Got a grip on the game; not letting go
It's in my clutches; if I put these paws on you dogg;
I'm a leave ya head gushing;
Should've known the reprocutuctions
I'm the don son;
If i make that call theres no discussion
Just might steal your bitch
Flash the jewelry forget who you are
Cant fuck wit my click; they get busy
Don't care who you are;
Life hands out its licks; these are trophies;
Call em battle scars; riding on a pussy
Or getting pussy I keep the ruga cocked
The block is open; the hood is hot;
Call that bitch the candy shop;
We jacking purses; for credit cards;
Spin the block; let hammers off;
Tote the toolies; like master cards;
We slanging hard; when we slanging hard;
Pop ya in ya dome; open ya top; like the staples' garden
Pull up to ya spot; no drive by; park right in ya yard;
Hear that bih go pop; pop let it rain
When these bullets fall; who you gonna call;
We disconnect you; your a dropped call
The pistol gonna bang; it gets bloody
You cant wipe it off cant breath when it covers you;
Blankets all you saw; I keep a saw;
Wit a saw; to chop you up; or blast ya jaw;
The streets break the weak; careful who you slanging wit;
If I hear that youse a snitch;
Then Judas who you'll be hanging wit
Just might steal your bitch
Flash the jewelry forget who you are
Cant fuck wit my click they get busy don't care who you are;
Life hands out its licks; these are trophies;
Call em battle scars; riding on a pussy; or getting pussy;
I keep the ruga cocked
The block is open; the hood is hot;
Call that bitch the candy shop;
We jacking purses; for credit cards;
Spin the block; let hammers off;
Tote the toolies; like master cards;
We slanging hard; when we slanging hard;
Pop ya in ya dome; open ya top;
Like the staples' garden
Ain't no need for begging; the reaper is still a coming;
So stop feel the metal its hot dat glock 40;
I let it off; pop pop huh; head shots only;
Black Rose's to the wake;
Sorry but not sorry