Dead People - The Game

[Bridge: 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 n_gga with a problem, they be dyin' over dead people.
Muthaf_ckin' dead people.

[Verse 1: Game]
This sh_t gets deep.
Don't f_ck 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 f_ckin' 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 sh_t.
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' f_cking ugly.
I f_ckin' love it.
Took this n_gga by his throat and f_ckin' 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 f_cka.)

[Verse 2: Game]
Last night, I must've had a blast choppin up bodies.
Woke up bloody as f_ck in the hospital lobby.
Body filled with adrenaline.
Not rememberin what I did to get all this blood on my f_ckin' Timberlands.
Cop's sayin I did what to him?
Showin me pictures of cut-up b_tches, disfigured members with body parts missin.
Listen, I ain't do sh_t, I don't know sh_t.
Man, I don't give a f_ck about that b_tch.
F_ck whatever she said, f_ck whatever she saw, it wasn't me.
Oh no no, not me.
Listen to the alibi.
I was at the movies, that Avatar sh_t,
With them 3-D glasses on,
And that sh_t longer than mother f_cka.
Look at my pocket, get the tickets though.
That's my alibi, b_tch.
Now what up?
Fresh out the cuffs, now I'm back on the outside,
And headed west where Homicide reside.
That's my n_gga.
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 n_ggas hard to play, some n_ggas 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 f_cka.)

[Verse 3: Game]
Beware of dark sh_t., shot 'em through the fence
Tough offensive line men couldn't stop the blitz.
Them n_ggas inside, a couple kittens
And this right here, good riddance.
N_gga f_ck 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.
N_gga, 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 muthaf_ckin mouth.
Simple insanity.
Just a murderous fantasy.
Simple insanity.
Just a murderous fantasy of mine.
(Now I feel like killin me a mother f_cka.)

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