paroles de chanson Dead People - Game
Graveyards
in
my
pocket.
Tombstones
in
my
wallet.
If
you
talkin′
'bout
my
profit,
All
I
see
is
dead
people.
All
I
see
is
dead
people.
You
starve
so
when
my
momma
tryna
make
a
couple
dollars,
Any
nigga
with
a
problem,
they
be
dyin′
over
dead
people.
Muthafuckin'
dead
people.
This
shit
gets
deep.
Don't
fuck
with
me.
You
end
up
six
feet
deep.
Listen
to
how
I
did
it.
I
crept
up
slow
on
Willow.
Thinkin′
′bout
climbin'
through
the
fuckin′
window.
In
the
backseat,
potato
burners.
Ski
mask,
body
bag,
duct
tape,
and
a
pillow.
In
the
front
solo.
Sittin'
low
with
the
lights
out.
Feelin′
like
Manson
on
some
Sonny
Sam
shit.
With
a
murder
on
my
mind
that
my
mind
on
the
homicide,
And
my
watch
said
they
outta
time.
Somebody
gotta
die,
bottom
line.
Front
page,
column
nine.
Headline:
Another
Columbine.
I
plan
and
plot
and
strategized,
and
thought
about
it.
Loaded
up
everything
in
the
closet.
My
objective
is
to
get
bloody.
They
can
beg
and
plead,
yell
and
scream.
Try
to
leave,
get
in
cheese,
pray
to
God
on
they
knees,
but
I'm
still
gettin′
fucking
ugly.
I
fuckin'
love
it.
Took
this
nigga
by
his
throat
and
fuckin'
cut
it
and
thought
nothin′
of
it.
It′s
simple
insanity.
Just
a
murderous
fantasy.
It's
simple
insanity.
Just
a
murderous
fantasy
of
mine.
(Man,
I
feel
like
killin
me
a
mother
fucka.)
Last
night,
I
must′ve
had
a
blast
choppin
up
bodies.
Woke
up
bloody
as
fuck
in
the
hospital
lobby.
Body
filled
with
adrenaline.
Not
rememberin
what
I
did
to
get
all
this
blood
on
my
fuckin'
Timberlands.
Cop′s
sayin
I
did
what
to
him?
Showin
me
pictures
of
cut-up
bitches,
disfigured
members
with
body
parts
missin.
Listen,
I
ain't
do
shit,
I
don′t
know
shit.
Man,
I
don't
give
a
fuck
about
that
bitch.
Fuck
whatever
she
said,
fuck
whatever
she
saw,
it
wasn't
me.
Oh
no
no,
not
me.
Listen
to
the
alibi.
I
was
at
the
movies,
that
Avatar
shit,
With
them
3-D
glasses
on,
And
that
shit
longer
than
mother
fucka.
Look
at
my
pocket,
get
the
tickets
though.
That′s
my
alibi,
bitch.
Now
what
up?
Fresh
out
the
cuffs,
now
I′m
back
on
the
outside,
And
headed
west
where
Homicide
reside.
That's
my
nigga.
He
live
on
1st
and
48th
right
next
to
the
white
chalk
in
between
the
yellow
tape,
Behind
the
black
gate.
Rottwielers
and
pitbulls,
surrounded
by
snakes,
AK′s
and
AR's.
Some
niggas
hard
to
play,
some
niggas
play
hard
But
that
house
right
there,
don′t
go
in
they
yard
It's
simple
insanity.
Just
a
murderous
fantasy.
It′s
simple
insanity.
Just
a
murderous
fantasy
of
mine.
(Man,
I
feel
like
killin
me
a
mother
fucka.)
Beware
of
dark
shit,
shot
'em
through
the
fence
Tough
offensive
line
men
couldn't
stop
the
blitz.
Them
niggas
inside,
a
couple
kittens
And
this
right
here,
good
riddance.
Nigga
fuck
around,
it′s
suicide
for
instance
Picture
the
mind
of
a
bullet
Here
I
come
I
can
smell
the
flesh
aimin′
for
your
head
or
neck.
Nigga,
pray
to
God
I
won't
hit
your
chest.
Now
here
I
come
straight
outta
drum,
headed
for
your
lungs.
You
in
my
sight.
The
last
one
didn′t
do
it
right,
And
I'm
waitin.
Just
lookin
at
you.
Thinkin
about
it
and
gettin
tired
of
lookin
at
you.
Hi,
daddy,
remember
me?
Goodbye,
daddy,
this
is
what
it
gotta
be.
You
brought
me
in
this
world,
now
I′m
takin
you
out.
Now
you
open
up
your
muthafuckin
mouth.
Simple
insanity.
Just
a
murderous
fantasy.
Simple
insanity.
Just
a
murderous
fantasy
of
mine.
(Now
I
feel
like
killin
me
a
mother
fucka.)
Album
Jesus Piece
1 Dead People
2 Ali Bomaye
3 Celebration
4 Scared Now
5 Jesus Piece
6 Blood Diamonds
7 Pray
8 Can't Get Right
9 See No Evil
10 Hallelujah
11 Church
12 Blood of Christ
13 Holy Water
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