FUCK QUICKDEATH - Value

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Send your bitch to Heaven’s Gate, I can’t lie I contemplate

Homicidal, Suicidal, feelings at the present date

Heard his tongue bespeak some shit

Saw his homies smash my whip

Caught him lackin' in the crib

Put a shelly in his rib

Pullin out the shawty, hoppin out the Audi

Make them pussy bitches suffocate

Bodies dropping lik a xanny poppin

In the bottom let that shit escalat

They run up on me and they act like I sleep

But reality bites like a snake on a leash

The neighborhood freakin, my homies be geekin

Grandmama so worried she die in her sleep

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