Ay, ay, ya

Reach into my pocket, then I grab a couple crumpled hunnidsWe look like some crumpled hunnids

Blunted out, the fuss is something

Paranoia turn my stomach

H1 Hummer, rough and rugged

Desert camo truck to the front

And shirt unbottoned, seat adjusted

One hundred miles per hour, bitch, I seem accustomed

To life in the fast lane nothing

Nothing in the motherfucking gas tank

Dumpin′ ashes and laughin'

Fucking duckin′ what comes from the government

Peelin' out until the sunset

Eyes so low, look like a sunset

Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away

Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away

Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away

Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away (always)

Back on my bullshit, now I have to pay it back

Put my foot on the fuckin' brakes

Signed up for a life, became Yung Christ

All I got was a death wish, illness, and a piece of $uicide

Fuck this ego, fuck this rap

Easily execution on my side

Homicide, homicide

But we used to all the time

We in the Benz, off the benzos, our depression clinical

Ya heard me?

We in the Benz, off the benzos, our depression clinical

Clinical, clinical mind (motherfucker)

$uicide

$uicide

Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away

Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away

Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away

Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away (always)

We are tired of this new world

I don′t want to be here

$uicide, $uicide my end

$uicide, $uicide my end

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son (yeah, yeah)

Meet me by the moon (right)

Half past dusk (fuck that)

Back from the dust, Cut Throat

He loves them drugs and guns

Jump in the cut

Got about 20k and a gun (what?)

Got a bottle of Adderall, cigarette butts

Every day adds up

Do I look like I give a fuck? (No)

Every day, up every night (what?)

Bloody nights turn bloodier

Death could be right in front of ya, yeah (what?)

Still wouldn′t recognize her (hold up)

Got a death list, that's some still gotta catch this

Bust up the TEC quick

Die bitch, die, bitch

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

Ay, you ever had to dig your own grave?

Live your life with no name

Backwood full of dro mane, okay

′96 Benz with that cocaine payin', hoe

High until my death, I got that propane tank low

Gas seeping all over the house, until I say so

Light the fucking match, let that tank blow

So glad I stayed home

Someone called the cops on the payphone

Flames all around me, man I hope they fucking drown me

Crown made of ashes, only way they fucking found me

Forget about me, only way you might not feel so lousy

Forget about me, on my own head out with the price, the bounty

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel son

In New Orleans

There were many bizarre things I always saw

Growing up here, especially in the graveyards

And as a child, I spent a lot of time in the graveyards

As an adult, I still spend a lot of time in the graveyards

But as a child, it was a regular weekend thing to do

I always needed to know why

Sometimes my why′s got me in trouble

For my last trick, I don't think I′m cut out for this rap shit

Ay, you wanna keep going, or...?

Nah, that's it

$uicide I'm fucking screamin′ from the rooftop

The only thing I ever did worth mentioning ever since $lick

Burn me a CD of Lil Wayne, that shit probly still in my boombox

But nowadays I keep walking to an establishment

And select myself on a fucking jukebox

If I wanted to cop a black Countach

Drive that shit like two blocks and then smash

In the back of a new cop car, now I think I′m wanted too

Yeah, just get a bunch of face tats, it's gonna be cool

SoundCloud this, SoundCloud that (hey man, cut that shit off)

Man the chorus suck, man

Garbage, man, sounds like a fucking generic 3-6, man

I don′t even let the hair grow, man (get the fuck outta here)

Shitty ass music (hey, man)

Change the station, they fucking wack (dumb bitch, little whore)

They're way too fucking short, get the fuck outta here

Yeah, still feel like I′m losing, ay

Me and kin still feel like we losing, ay

We still feel like we losing, ay

Losing, losing

I'm on the lean, yeah, the drank

I′m on them bars, blowing thing

I'm on a lot amphetamines

Got no time for sleep, lost in my thoughts

I don't know who a friend or who a enemy

Nurtured and disturbed, down from head to toe

Have a feelings sometimes gotta let it go

Plenty of days, thought shit was over

Created a other movement, created other music

Still feel like I′m losing