IF U WERE KILLED TOMORROW, I WOULDNT GO 2 UR FUNERAL CUZ ID B N JAIL 4 KILLIN DA MOTHA ♥♥♥♥♥ THAT KILLED U!


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WE TRUE HOMIES
WE RIDE TOGETHER
WE DIE TOGETHER

His palms are sweaty, diffs weak, clutch is heavy
There's oil on his driveway already, missus not happy
He's nervous, but on the surface it's been waxed, he's ready.
To drop straps, but he keeps on forgettin'
What the mechanic wrote down, the whole car gets so loud
He opens his throttle, but the mang won't come out
It's chokin' now everything's smokin' now
The fuels run out, timings out, its over pow!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LW3fD0uccPQ