City Morgue
Nan
[Verse 1: SosMula]
(Mula)
Can't talk much if your jaw wired (Bitch)
Choke n***as out with the barbed wire (Bitch)
Pull up on the block, just park by it (Skrrt)
N***a’s got a stash in the car tire
Feds get the iPhone calls wired
Sellin' bricks, you a little 8-ball buyer (Work)
Fiends took a week cause they bid higher (Work)
OD on the coke like Len Bias
Look, I hit the kitchen stove up, with the bakin' soda (Fish scale)
Dip into the oil, let it boil, can’t take the odor
Treat your block like a firin' range, when I spray the Cobra (Blaow)
Kick back, from the click-clack, might break a shoulder (Blaow)
Pussy n***a, it's a war report, no report card (Fuck outta here)
Shotgun, stash box, n***a, in a sports car (Grrah)
N***as getting shot, miss a lot, pray to Allah
Bad bitch, she gon' fuck a n***a like a pornstar (Slide)

[Verse 2: ZillaKami]
Bitch, I mix up with the mid, givin' treats to all my pits (Okay)
If I'm swinging foot and fist, bloody mouth, it need a rinse (Okay)
Get your block turnt, mom hurt, talk to your sponsor (Okay)
With them choppers, it's Saunder's, all in your spine, bitch (Okay, okay, okay)
N***as ain’t real ’cause they off of eight pills (Huh?)
Showed up to your man, I ain't like him, they ain’t real (Huh?)
Bitch, you not from these parts, you get killed (Okay)
Bitch, you not from these parts, you get killed (Okay)
[Chorus: ZillaKami]
Nah, nan n***a really want war with the gang (No, no, no, no, no)
Nah, nan n***a really gonna talk in my face (No, no, no, no, no)
Nah, nan n***a really uppin' drums and shit (No, no, no, no, no)
Except the Morgue, and that's about it (Chee)