raised with religion Look at the dead head mechanism, amongst the cobble stones God feels alone alongside my tag (E-L dash) Burn yours for reasoning
to make it afternooney(?) take a piece of my strife burn it up by making something useful (in the heat of the night) I make music with my machines floating across the seas
Money schemin, supplying my workers with birds and dealing Because mama understand that my hustlin has a meaning The reason to stay passive, I ain't here no more Addicted
You never give it back to me Just take away everything You never give it back to me I gotta kill the addiction I gotta kill the addiction I gotta kill the addiction
arms rock when coke dropped we read a hundred niggaz palms Silencers, garbage bags of hash For every cop we paid retired now the nigga on smash Gash you out your burner