[ Featuring Don Carrera ]
Feelin' like this Total Request Live, they gon' call me Carson.
Burnt the house that I lived in down to ashes with these verses, I'm a f*ckin' arson.
We gon' park 'em soon as we scope 'em, I'm a f*ckin' marksman.
Same nigga that was eatin' Krispy Krunchy Chicken, sittin' outside on Parsons.
Through the darkness, we was heartless, but I had to be.
There's gon' be a lotta niggas that's comin' out the woodwork that's gon' be mad it's me.
You ain't bad as me, you ain't had to live through all the tragedies.
Enough times that were sad to see-boy, you better just be glad it's me.
And you ain't ever dress the dead or go white collar dodgin' Fed
'Cause you was too low on your bread and all the pressures from society
Was gettin' to your head.
Or did so much dirt, that when you think 'about it you lose the feelin' in your legs.
That's why I'm prayed up, 'cause a nigga stay premium.
TTG, we ain't medium.
Need a thick bitch that's bohemian in some new shit that you ain't seen me in.
Goin' stupid with a devious, it's Hell'z Own,
And I'm some shit that you ain't seen in a while.
We told you count the bodies up, now add this one to the pile.
Add this one to the pile.
We told you count the bodies up, now add this one to the pile.
Now add this one to the pile.
Now add this one to the pile.
We told you count the bodies up, now add this one to the pile.
