THE VOICES MADE ME DO IT
Runnin from the opps and they can’t catch me
And i throw away my phone so they can’t track me
Bitch i’m blowin up your house with my apache
This shit is armored you can’t scratch me
In your crib watchin you die i can’t stop smiling
Caught you goin for the phone made you stop dialing
Holes in your merch bitch you’re not surviving
I just heard your new song you should stop trying
Gun shots, do you hear that?
Alive or dead bitch i don’t fear that
So much oxycodone in my system
System em em em sys system
Psych ward need to be admitted
Sentenced for the crimes i’ve committed
I’m sick i’m vile i’m twisted
Need brains and i can’t resist it
Yuh rpg in thе duffle bag
Bitch i came preparеd with burettas and extra mags
And i made that boy scram like a running back
They think that i’m dead they don’t know that i’m coming back
9 mil up inside my pants
Nowi gotta wash the blood up off my hands
I got racks now i can fund my addiction
But now i cannot feel my hands
Shots fired your partner needs back up
Bitch i’m a threat bitch so you better back up
Don’t talk to me unless your fucking racks up
If it ain’t bout money then it don’t matter
Stupid fucking whore
Your organs are on the floor
I just want blood intestines gore
I’m on a killing spree and i i i want more
I’m the axe killer that you heard on the news about
Chop down the door and then let my bullets rip throughout
I need my fix bitch and i cannot go without
I’m getting rich bitch the feds don’t know my whereabouts
And i throw away my phone so they can’t track me
Bitch i’m blowin up your house with my apache
This shit is armored you can’t scratch me
In your crib watchin you die i can’t stop smiling
Caught you goin for the phone made you stop dialing
Holes in your merch bitch you’re not surviving
I just heard your new song you should stop trying
Gun shots, do you hear that?
Alive or dead bitch i don’t fear that
So much oxycodone in my system
System em em em sys system
Psych ward need to be admitted
Sentenced for the crimes i’ve committed
I’m sick i’m vile i’m twisted
Need brains and i can’t resist it
Yuh rpg in thе duffle bag
Bitch i came preparеd with burettas and extra mags
And i made that boy scram like a running back
They think that i’m dead they don’t know that i’m coming back
9 mil up inside my pants
Nowi gotta wash the blood up off my hands
I got racks now i can fund my addiction
But now i cannot feel my hands
Shots fired your partner needs back up
Bitch i’m a threat bitch so you better back up
Don’t talk to me unless your fucking racks up
If it ain’t bout money then it don’t matter
Stupid fucking whore
Your organs are on the floor
I just want blood intestines gore
I’m on a killing spree and i i i want more
I’m the axe killer that you heard on the news about
Chop down the door and then let my bullets rip throughout
I need my fix bitch and i cannot go without
I’m getting rich bitch the feds don’t know my whereabouts