Lyrics Death is Callin - Mozzy
Big
dawg,
my
circumference
is
full
of
those
I′m
uncomfortable
'round
these
hoes
′Cause
I
know
they
gave
'em
the
drop
My
dawg
facin'
murder,
they
think
I
gave
him
the
chop
Paid
attorney
service,
they
think
I
gave
him
the
guap
I′m
a
fella,
baby
And
we
confirmed
the
allegations,
niggas
tellin′,
baby
It
ain't
a
time
the
suckers
died
and
we
ain′t
celebrated
We'll
have
′em
section
off
your
section
likе
it's
segregated
Ayy,
hеavy
doses
when
indulgin′
in
the
medication,
medicated
Ayy,
how
it's
millions
in
his
bank
and
he
uneducated?
You
better
not
pull
up
to
mi
casa
without
no
reservation
Blind
niggas
lead
the
blind
without
no
destination
I
press
ignore
and
I
ain't
answer,
I
think
death
was
callin′
And
then
I
got
a
text
from
brother
like
the
check
was
callin′
We
hecksa
ballin',
nigga
hecksa
hella
extra
ballin′
It's
HGM
until
I′m
tortured,
I'ma
rep
regardless
Yeah,
we
gon′
step
regardless
I
press
ignore
and
I
ain't
answer,
I
think
death
was
callin'
My
youngin
died
eleventh
grade,
ain′t
get
a
chance
to
ball
him
We
gon′
pop
these
bottles
for
him,
lift
your
Rollies
up
And
never
speak
his
name
in
vain
if
you
gon'
blow
it
up
I
press
ignore
and
I
ain′t
answer,
I
think
death
was
callin'
My
youngin
died
eleventh
grade,
ain′t
get
a
chance
to
ball
him
We
gon'
pop
these
bottles
for
him,
lift
your
Rollies
up
And
never
speak
his
name
in
vain
if
you
gon′
blow
it
up
Uh,
demonic
behavior,
it's
hard
to
savor
Switchin'
jerseys
in
the
fourth
quarter
on
us,
them
niggas
traitors
If
he
don′t
bet
the
fader,
we
gon′
strip
him
for
his
paper
Duckin'
off
in
Vegas
with
a
mansion
by
the
Raiders
The
fallen
ain′t
forgotten,
I'ma
bee
you
niggas
later
Yeah,
youngin
′nem
forever
in
my
favor
40
with
the
laser,
HGM
leather
blazer
Multi-million
dollar
neighbors,
throw
the
sixes
on
the
scraper
(ah)
Miss
me
with
the
hatin',
I
got
guala
on
the
menu
Niggas
holler
fourth,
but
I′m
for
surely
that
ain't
in
you
Ayy,
call
me
for
the
kill
'cause
that′s
the
type
of
shit
I′m
into
You
ain't
cook
nobody
when
you
caught
him,
you
was
fin′
to
Fella
in
my
trenches,
niggas
treat
me
like
the
Big
U,
on
God
We
ain't
drivin′
by,
we
finna
skid
through
You
just
see
the
shine
and
don't
acknowledge
what
we
been
through
I
tell
′em
all
the
time,
"Your
time
comin'
if
it's
meant
to,"
on
God
I
press
ignore
and
I
ain′t
answer,
I
think
death
was
callin′
My
youngin
died
eleventh
grade,
ain't
get
a
chance
to
ball
him
We
gon′
pop
these
bottles
for
him,
lift
your
Rollies
up
And
never
speak
his
name
in
vain
if
you
gon'
blow
it
up
I
press
ignore
and
I
ain′t
answer,
I
think
death
was
callin'
My
youngin
died
eleventh
grade,
ain′t
get
a
chance
to
ball
him
We
gon'
pop
these
bottles
for
him,
lift
your
Rollies
up
And
never
speak
his
name
in
vain
if
you
gon'
blow
it
up
(This
is
Jay
P
Bangz)
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