Yo,My burial plot,
They stand 6 feet above,
fake thug,no love,
you get the slug,
and lay it next,
to the tec,
you take it,
and place it under your vest,
say your confessions,
for sellin me out,
i always knew it,
i clocked the first time i saw you wit that new kid,
you walk to the car,
stick the key in the ignition,
finger prints wiped off,
your in the clear,
no competition,
you frammed sonny,
same clip,same gat,
you know that sucks G,
stare at me in my grave for a good 5,
put ya foot to the pedal,
and exit the drive,
back at totty,
you had the setup planned,
no doubt,
1 shell to the brain of my head,
ouch,
that gotta hurt,
sirens from the distance start to lurk,
you came in in advance,
had positions set,
no time wastin,
sirens and gun shots,thats the feds pacin,
lucky a snitch helped snitch on a bitch,
got shit back to normal,
except i no longer exist.

Intoxication, my voicebox rocks the nation
Sweet affiliation, the Doe Or Die situation - Az