Dead People lyrics

by

Fabolous


[Intro]
Graveyards in my pocket
Tombstones in my wallet
If you talkin' 'bout my profit
All I see is dead people
All I see is dead people
Used to hustle with my momma tryna make a couple dollars
Any n*gga with a problem, they be dyin' over dead people
Muthaf*ckin' dead people

[Verse 1: Game]
This sh*t gets deep, don't f*ck with me
You end up six feet deep, listen to how I did it
I crept up slow on Willow
Thinkin' 'bout climbin' through the f*ckin' window
In the backseat, potato burners
Ski mask, body bag, duct tape, and a pillow
In the front solo, sittin' low with the lights out
Feelin' like Manson on some Son of Sam sh*t
With a murder on my mind that my mind on the homicide
And my watch said they outta time, somebody gotta die, bottom line
Front page, column nine, headline: Another Columbine
I planned and plotted and strategized, and thought about it
Loaded up everything in the closet
My objective is to get bloody, they can beg and plead, yell and scream
Try to leave, get in cheese, pray to God on they knees
But I'm still gettin' f*cking ugly, I f*ckin' love it
Took this n*gga by his throat and f*ckin' cut it and thought nothin' of it
It's simple insanity, just a murderous fantasy
It's simple insanity, just another murderous fantasy of mine
(Man, I feel like killin' me a muaf*cka)

[Verse 2: Game]
Last night, I must've had a blast choppin' up bodies
Woke up bloody as f*ck in the hospital lobby
Body filled with adrenaline
Not rememberin' what I did to get all this blood on my f*ckin' Timberlands
Cop's sayin' I did what to him?
Showin' me pictures of cut-up b*tches
Disfigured members with body parts missin'
Listen, I ain't do sh*t, I don't know sh*t
Man, I don't give a f*ck about that b*tch
f*ck whatever she said, f*ck whatever she saw -it wasn't me
Oh no no, not me, listen to the alibi
I was at the movies -that Avatar sh*t, with them 3-D glasses on
And that sh*t longer than muaf*cka
Look at my pocket, get the ticket stub
That's my alibi, b*tch, now what up?
Fresh out the cuffs, now I'm back on the outside
And headed west where Homicide reside, that's my n*gga
He live on 1st and 48th right next to the white chalk
In between the yellow tape, behind the black gate
Rottwielders and pitbulls, surrounded by snakes, AK's and AR's
Some n*ggas hard to play, some n*ggas play hard
But that house right there, don't go in they yard
It's simple insanity, just a murderous fantasy
It's simple insanity, just a murderous fantasy of mine
(Man, I feel like killin' me a muaf*cka.)

[Verse 3: Game]
Beware of dark sh*t, shot 'em through the fence
Tough offensive line men couldn't stop the blitz
Them n*ggas inside, a couple kittens
And this right here: good riddance
n*gga f*ck around, its suicide for instance
Picture the mind of a bullet
Here I come, I can smell the flesh aimin' for your head or neck
n*gga, pray to God I won't hit your chest
Now here I come straight outta drum, headed for your lungs
You in my sight
The last one didn't do it right
And I'm waitin'
Just lookin' at you
Thinkin' 'bout it and gettin' tired of lookin' at you
Hi, daddy, remember me?
Goodbye, daddy, this is what it gotta be
You brought me in this world, now I'm takin' you out
Now you open up your muthaf*ckin' mouth
Simple insanity
Just a murderous fantasy
Simple insanity
Just a murderous fantasy of mine
(Now I feel like killin' me a muaf*cka)
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