paroles de chanson The Wake - Album Version (Edited) - Fabolous
It
really
was
all
Drama′s
fault,
I
been
had
the
mixtape
done
He's
like,
yeah,
that′s
cool
but
I'm
'bout
to
go
to
the
Bahamas
Bahamas?
Nigga,
we
got
work
to
do
We
gotta
finish
killin′
the
fuckin′
competition
We
can
start
the
funeral
service
First
off
I
wanna
send
my
condolences
First
off
I
wanna
send
my
condolences
First
off
I
wanna
send
my
condolences
Rest
in
peace
to
the
competition,
yeah
Rest
in
peace
to
the
competition
What's
up,
Drama?
Y′all
know
what
this
is
right?
Da,
da
grillz,
da,
da,
da
grillz
Da,
da
grillz,
da,
da,
da
grillz
Da,
da
grillz,
da,
da,
da
grillz
Da,
da
grillz,
da,
da,
da,
da,
da
I
am
logged
on
to
fuck
niggas
dot
com
And
I
am
everything
these
fuck
niggas,
not
Drama
I
am
logged
on
to
fuck
niggas
dot
com
And
I
am
everything
these
fuck
niggas,
not
Drama
Must
be
some
confusion,
you
niggas
are
not
me
I
am
an
illusion,
really
what
you
cannot
see
So
picture
me
like
a
paparazzi,
H
dot
N
dot
I
dot
C
We
don't
play
when
we
roll,
no
Yahtzee
And
I
hate
you
niggas,
no
Nazi
But
this
the
holocaust,
rap
genocide,
yeah
Ike
Turner
take
that
bitch
slaps
in
the
ride
My
shorty
tellin′
me,
kill
the
competition
boo
And
I
be
tellin'
her
There
Is
No
Competition
2,
nice
There
Is
No
Competition
2
It′s
good
to
wake
up
look
in
the
mirror
And
the
only
competition's
you
And
even
that
nigga
ain't
seein′
me
My
reflection
have
a
hard
time
bein′
me
So
they
tryna
do
me
shit,
it's
time
to
dead
it
I′m
what
ya
don't
do
even
if
Simon
said
it
I
kill
′em
with
the
shine,
yeah,
these
black
diamond's
credit
And
my
watch
is
sick
but
I
have
no
time
for
medics
Black
ice
in
the
Ottomar,
this
is
custom
order
bra
First
I
call
the
jeweler
up,
then
I
call
the
coroner
My
car
is
foreigner,
my
bitch
is
from
Florida
I
killed
the
pussy
last
night
so
now
her
man
is
mournin′
her
Good
mornin',
sir,
I
goodnight,
niggas
Y'all
on
death
row,
I
Suge
Knight,
niggas
Time
to
depart,
I
book
flights,
nigga
Wassup
son?
What
it
look
like,
nigga?
Black
dress,
black
suits,
black
shades,
black
boots
Black
truck,
black
coupe,
guns
blow,
black
flutes
Black
card,
black
jewels,
black
party
bag
Black
Friday,
throw
it
in
a
body
bag
Black
Barbie,
that′s
what
I
call
my
black
braud
African
plug,
that′s
what
I
call
a
black
chord
Get
ya
sharps,
get
ya
flats,
that's
the
black
keys
Gettin′
slick'll
get
ya
holes
in
ya
black
tees
Black
limos,
black
town
cars,
black
hearses
Black
register
books
signed
in
black
cursive
Black
tears,
white
tissues
outta
black
purses
That′s
procedure
when
I'm
sendin′
back
verses
The
wake,
it's
the
wake
right
here
Come
before
the
funeral,
nigga
They
call
me
funeral
fab,
nigga,
a.k.a
Young
Funeral
I'm
killing
these
niggas
And
I′m
the
undertaker,
Drama
With
the
body
in
the
bag
All
these
niggas
is
dead
You
look
around,
they′re
all
dead
This
will
be
fun,
it's
tree
fam
nigga,
affiliates,
nice
1 The Eulogy (Intro) - Album Version (Edited)
2 The Wake - Album Version (Edited)
3 I'm Raw - Album Version (Edited)
4 Body Ya - Album Version (Edited)
5 Body Count - Album Version (Edited)
6 Body Bag Remix - Album Version (Edited)
7 You Be Killin Em - Album Version (Edited)
8 Tonight - Album Version (Edited)
9 Lights Out - Album Version (Edited)
10 Closing Prayer (Outro) - Album Version (Edited)
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