Welcome 2 Your Own Death

As I bail through the woods of the southside

Terrors on nine milli chrome kill alone cause I trust no snitch

When I peel a dome and bail

Gone like hell right through the do

I'm rollin' a fat sack of red boogy boo, ***** ooh

Watch me bail ***** but you don't see me though

Cause I'm rollin' fat sacks in the back of my vehicle

But takin' a puff of the dank stuff

and enough that double O-A-E dooz me

I'm slowly loadin' up the oozy

Well now who's he

Well it's that dead ************ doe

Well whatcha know comin' through with that murder mo

And I heard you know now whose been bustin' up on the garden block

You either give up the information,

***** I get shots, so ***** nah WHAT!

I guess you wanna dose of this milla

Twenty-four shots from that mommas baby killa

***** mack hustla, cap busta, infact I'm just a mack ten

Bustin' em at your chin before I crept *****

Welcome to your own death

Chorus x6

***** welcome to your own death

(BUCK! For them who don't know bout loc to da brain

Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game) x2

So ****** miss my sicc

Some ****** don't know me, ****** don't know my click

That O-loc-double-C-O-G rip gut canibal type of ****

Plus many more caps bust

Anymore sacks to roll up, we need that high back

So ****** done load them nins and pull them high jacks

And lie back in the cut and roll another fat one up

Tack one up for loc to the brain

Them ****** that really don't give a ****

Around and get buck, shot it up and dump in a truck and left in a cut

So ***** now whatcha gon do with a mini mack ten ten at yo gut

Plus ****** nuts and guts is what I rips for

Creepin' up in a six four impala

Mobbin' a loots all up to make you vomit from the raw gut cause

Nah what I do is let my nine do the talkin'

Leavin' you walkin' to your funeral low

Diggin'? yo smoke from the mack 1-0

I had ya pussin' just in case

I got me a mack eleven for your face that's leavin' no trace

Caps leavin' a gate and puttin' holes in a ****** neck

So watch the reeper when I creep crept

Welcome to your own death

Chorus x6

When I hit the block with a nine

Them fools better be duckin'

My ***** duck got out the car and started buckin' at ****** runnin'

untraceable gage shells

Only worriers goin' to hell

And 5-0 they just can't swoop

See cause we mobbin' too well

My murder file done pile more than a ***** expected

See cause have of the city of Sac still ain't accepted

That I'm a pack and when I'm sweated I'ma put in work

Cause my O-T told me why Jesus got to kick up some dirt

And I'm tired of warnin' a ************ about a ***** like me

When it's hard to believe

the nine millimeter comin' out my pants gonna make you dance

See that's the city and it's making a ************ stress

Gotta watch your back like 24-7

unless you wanna be livin' the rest of your life

Up in a cemetery die ***** die you'll repeat until you're buried

That nine millimeter givin' no ************' respect

Up on your back with your last breathe

Welcome to your own death

Chorus x6