im like the gream reaper i come out at night to snatch yo soul im the nigga that gone turn you into Casper faceshot him call him fried face im from 305 ima make something shake stay with the tec stay with drake ak47 tatted on my arm im dangerous turn ah nigga to angel dust ya un that boy got flushed thought he was ah thug got smush like ah bug throwed up underneath the rug i retire that boy put him up on the shelf than it's all the guns for sale shit easy they sneakin and geeking and tweaking im twerking the choppa at yo block im ready to read upon them longlives im from a spooky city called Miami anybody can get killed trying to be a gangsta in that field them goblins gon eat you like a meal i speak facts i been getting money been had them racks in and out yo female crib beating ha back she use to call me ha snack she say no matta what that's my cat pouring up that syrup got me leaning on my tippy toes good opp pack inhaling them dead guys to the face that pack got me feeling like im outta space i aint tayk i aint trying to do the race. im just trying to get this money and stay out the way bag up them zips load up the whip slide and make that flip real nigga on a money mission come my way you gon end up missing never found with all that dissing listen he was hissing damn he took his last breath and he was pissing when you hear them tires screeching i be fleeing 12 aint coming im doing all the good sleeping i be on yo block late night i be creeping for them opps trying to leave them not speaking