hot bullets flew threw the sky

hot bullets flew threw the sky couple hot daggers like fuck it, we coming right through his eye, tired of being mr nice guy, its aint about the tip lil bitch, its bout the lie, so get the fuck outta my ear, dont cry, and bitch quit grabbin phone are u a spy, keak mac and 40, are the few i analyized every one of them niggas,hitten from all sides no free lunches anymore, i changed the Adoor, da ops keep puntin, got a stroke likê brandon roy, cooking up cans of whoop ass a simple joy i need to stop playing w this lil boy, go ahead and say it wit ya chest very calculative i might just be the best, i stick the script the unwritten is proly next, but i aint a square so its never reaching my desk,, i was told remember its just business my team work hard every game triple digits, running, smashing, climbing to the finish, gritting, grinding, timing w no ending, sorry that i showed up, dese niggas froze up, me and my niggas in this bitch and its finna go up, like some hard liquor, when u drunk and bout to throw up,f tow up, wit all that disrespect u better hold up, no trust, is being given better get a line dry rats dropping dimes, they gone do it every time, human animals canibals eating porcupines, feasting on antilopes u want the small fries this wild Iion rhe new golden eye, i wont stop trying to make it multiply, look inside, the looking glass at american pie, step aside, for dat boss to looktin a 45, never hide, from my deamons im hoping we gone collide, idle time, is being wasted nigga now lets ride, yes i, prolly guilty on all charges, cause i emptied out every bullet in the cartridge, all im thinking about is the execution, in my muddy bloody boots made for mook truman, in the game of life loosin, its kinda confusin ok ts kinda problem then u better call Mr. Houston, all the boyfriends get left fumin, mad at the world bc ya mane choosing, no fairytale conclusion, had plenty mail she used him, nack to ¹,