This is my shit here. A perfect example of how real story tellin gets down.


Some chick, highlighted horsehair laced with razorblades
Face to face, tongue kissin a date that makes ya pay for aids
Seein a guage to braces, leavin the latest traces
Of ya favorite k swiss, cut up, different color reeses pieces
Swingin matrix style, so it takes a while
To touch the ground, not leavin much but sound
Ringin off the blood, clingin soft to drugs
Breathin costs ya lungs, but the pain remains
And changes subtle, gangstas pace to huddle
His brains been trained for pain but remains in a state
Of blatant nothin, Satans uppin, the stakes
His fates been comin since he gave him somethin
He drank liquor, makin blood thinner and hes dyin faster
Had a crew, but tonight the cast is lifeless caspers
And ya cryin half the, tears of a fearless phantom
Cuz no emotion flows in what it appears has happened
Switch gears back to the peers that capped him
A couple cheered assassins, 50 dollars richer
And the body a gritty modest ficture
What u should know is his former glory
His less than morman story, shouldve warned him for me
His family not long in mourning
Cuz he'd been a problem forming
His whole life
So suppose the fools gold and cold ice, can make u grow twice
As evil as the faux types, dickridin claimin u so nice
So as gangsta as ya claim to be on the mic
G'head and recon the stripes, see beyond the life

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