Tales From the North / 1-800-235-DEAD

VERSE 1:
From the northside we gon ice it up
I won’t hound you down for another cup
But I don’t want you to be drowning on
You didn’t pitch the shit so quit smiling now, uh
Lately I been working like a boss do
I get paid for my trade I could flaunt too
You’re bitch made, ima star do what stars do
I lay down with a queen cause I want to
All of the things that I wanted I get them myself by just putting in work
You shutting me out with the curtain of doubt but I’m burning it now with the torch
The Fucking ill mind of the playa I creep to the grave with no head on my horse
I’m one of them people that empty a clip when I feel like just running the score

VERSE 2:
It’s a nightmare from the northside
If I need to get another unsuspecting victim of the one who got the hand to deal a ton of fucking damage like I’m bout to break through from the underground
You know what I be bout, ooh yea you know where the fiend at
At home with a pack just to stay back
Chain smoke through the house I replay that, and they stay back