TRUTH prod. Young Taylor

Ghosties Prod. Ne The Statik

"Music Box" by Ne The Statik, all content COPYRIGHTED ©.

DROVE UP,
in a black snapback,
matter fact,
I’m in all black,
And payback be the motive.
Rats be devoted
To the hoe shit.
With a,
System full of potent
Streets be open,
Info flowin,
Ear got bloated
 with some quotes
 and
I
Got word from a little bird
Vulture wanna taste curb,
gotta sick urge
But I won’t splurge,
Cuz you know,
Purge be the verb . 
so I hit a sharp curve  and i swerve 
while im kickin up dirt!
All  in the lane.
Man this
Stupid little cat wanna play chicken
With a big grin,
So I swig gin,

while im  waitin,
patiently,
 i aint a chaser, see

cuz now or later, b.

and now
My Temper risin like vapor, see.
and,
uhh,
Fuck a friend cuz a friend be
To an enemy like sea be to anemone

Get up out my memory
Aint no amenities.

I'll
Turn ya eyes to ebony,

Yeah, who you fuckin wit?

I’ll slip quick,
Catch a tic, trick,
Put you in a crypt with
Ya Mom’s, Chick and ya Sis bitch.
:]
 Slice through the ligaments

Skin into filaments

Do you feel me

Feelin friction

 in your skin

When I Slip in

Never trippin,

No I ain’t dissin,

Just want your 
life in remission,

Witcha  fam reminiscing,

Since you went missing.

 I’m Deranged,

Yeah Bitch

Get up out my fuckin

 Range.

or
 Lie there
scattered in the lane
insects all atcha membrane, 
no one was to blame.

SO.
This little bitch.
So,
Ya wanna
talk 
shit.

You wanna letcha lips flap? 
Do you like that?
Hear the thunder crack, as your neck snaps, and your chin goes
Wap, crack crack.
Crack.

© Lyrics by Ne The Statikk 2017.