Black Saturday - Auxxk

Been thinking a lot

Been drinking a lot

Smokin so heavy

I’m part of the sky

Life been a bitch

Shit is a glitch

I felt like I died

Sick to stomach

Heart full of ice

Can’t fuck wit no phonies

That shit out of line

My time on the line

Ain’t wasting a dime

Ain’t fucking wit nothing but Benji’s

Blade on my hip like I’m rinji

Life in my hands and pending

Slept on me now you offended

Lately been feeling moe distant

Lately been feeling too iffy

Pistol stay full ain’t no loafing

Posing I break yo composure

Closer, this shit ain’t hostes

Soul in the air, I won’t post shit

Snitching I cannot condone it

Astral projection I’m on it

Shots at yo head, now you zoning

Phone in you calling, yo homies

Sorry them niggas they know me

They don’t want none of this pressure

They don’t want none of this pressure

They don’t want none of this pressure

They don’t want none of this pressure

They don’t want none of this pressure

Let’s get to part where I show, dat we really different

Fuck all that bitching and talking

Walk up, it’s one in the chamber

Lil nigga

You living to dangerous

Treat yo ass like you was stranger

Finger been itching, might strangle

Tangle ya life, wit hollow

No shinigami

Just pistols

Holes in ya chest

They going miss you

It ain’t no case

Mask on my face

Dey calling me crazy, they asking bout bodies, like shady, you ain’t tote

shotti, but trust me, I road wit the pistols, walk wit my bitch

Parinoid fucker

Niggas was moving to shady

Told them it’s fuck you or pay me

Kill

Can’t figure out how they going end me

Kill

Ain’t feeling them shots they sending

Kill

You not bout that shit, imma witness

Talking bout about they going slay

Notes on my door like they hate me

Trust when I catch you, no fade b

4 5 going to you to gravy

Bullets for low

Black Friday

Street sweep ya block for the low

Never going look for consignment

My niggas riding wit poles

Up off the left, chuck Norris boot in chest

Buck shot rip through ya vest, Teflon I turn that to streads

Now it’s a Sunday, you sleep in yo best

Sound getting crazy, they feeling the stress

How he keep changing, I thought he was dead

But bitch I’m the devil, I really been dead

Life been some shit, since my pops met his end

Now I’m on one, so don’t ask if I’m good

Just know I ain’t loafing

No not if I could

Don’t sleep on the regular

Night terrors real

So back to Reality

Just check of hit a mil

Give a fuck if I’m poppin

Just pay me, or come wit the drama