Hair

"Time to die" Hair down, smoking on a blunt Smoking a fucking cigarette, to fuck up both of my lungs Fuck you mean you hung yourself from the top bunk, bitch? You ain't even high enough to touch a Glock, boy Bitch, I put it to my skull Bitch, believe I'ma drop, boy Drop dead in the middle of the block, boy Stuck between a hard place and a rock, boy Rot in the box, breaking the locks Time is money, I ain't even got a clock, boy Watch them hoes flock, boy Break my fucking heart, and now I'm bustin' out shots, boy Put it to my head, and watch my head pop, boy Don't quit your day job, who the fuck else gonna stock, boy? You motherfucking box boy Hair up, purple double cup, bodies in the trunk Never front, this ain't what you want, .30 in the pump $uicide, take my own life Every night I die, every night I'm high Another depressing-ass alibi Reason for the drugs, reason for the subs Give a fuck about the club I'll walk up in that bitch, and shoot that motherfucker up Fuck the DJ, fuck your clique, and fuck your songs, boy I swear I hate you motherfuckers, leave me alone, boy Fuck a scene, fuck a trend, fuck your clothes, too Fuck you mean you with your team? And that's your hoe too? Give a fuck about your dreams, or your whole crew And if this is what it seems, I'm hollering, "Fuck you!"