Second Lines Come with Broken Souls
One for the gram (Anyone got a cigarette?)
Two for a million (American spirit's)
Three for the devil
(Them bitches keep burnin')
Fuck you, suck my dick, lil' prick
Choppa be off the xan
Rope tied, neck boy, chills boy (Gold)
Gold grill, dope boy
No limit's to my city, 'bout it, 'bout it
Born dead, drug fiend, skinny, gritty
Face tatted, might be strapped, savage
Savage semi, semi, ayy
Cut Throat committee, ayy give it to 'em raw
Yung Soulja Slim from the
Dark side, grey stripes, ayy
Turn 'em to a second line, ayy
Hearse boy, hearse boy, burn your
Body in the pine, ayy
It's that former broke boy breakin'
Even in the 7th Ward with bag of dope, boy
Hope the smoke will clear out by the mornin'
Got me choking, boy
Whatchu hopin', boy? That we broken boys?
We ain't open boy, no
Cut Throat, blood spoke
504, got the furl in my pocket
Yo' bitch stay in my motherfucking wallet
So I flaked on her
Told me, "meet me by the lake"
Yeah, that's where I stay
Come and blow me like grenades