we got the white boys (and jamal) on a track
jamahl called me the n word

Kinda White Ft. J.Cruz

Death row thoughts

Realest Ones (ft. Y.T.M.Sorta.D?)

Jamahl's brain swapped with Chris' at the end

Freestyling Gone Wrong (ft. Jcruz, Danny, Wave)

Godz (ft. Ice Tray)

A fat minute ago me and Yvng Tazz hopped on this track.
remastered audio

Tango Like Rango (ft. Ice Tray) Remastered

3O7 CY CYPHER

Truth

end of the world

Passive2

if you peeled me like an orange you'd only find red.
p.scarim

whats under my skin

Nami is so BADD

Green Light {}snippet{}

on my own

just to hold yall over until the album drops ;)
one death 888 rebirth one love
000
I’m sorry for what I’ve got planned 
I’ve come to learn I’m not much of a man
Writing this, smitten Wesson clutched in my hand 
A penny a thought, I’ve got a grand 
Now I’m not one for dramatics 
It’s getting harder to breath I’m asthmatic 
Tears clogging my eyes. I can’t stand it
I’ve been alone half of my life I’ve learned to manage
These scars I’ve come to brandish,
I wear this rope just like a scarf, a fall with no landing.
I’ve only ever asked for respect 
Wtf is the point of life if it only ever results in death?
It’s a test for the ones who are willing to crawl thru the mud, fingernails ripping off as they dug, civilians, criminals, all of y’all individuals who’ll die for the minerals. 
Who will die for the minimal.
000
I’ve lost em 
I’ve lost some 
I’ve lost some
Some that if I think of about loving another I think back to them, and know I shouldn’t. 
I’ve never recovered and you’ll never know the reasons behind why I couldn’t. 
If you were me just know you wouldn’t
Just know wouldn’t x2
Just no you wouldn’t x2
So as I’m prepping the set,
I’m laying out knives and flipping thru CDs evenacense nas tribe called quest spice girls mos def jay z (x juice world biggie pac wutang clan juice lauryan hill dream ville Kanye nwa house of pain rage against the machine I could go for days) in the back
Fuck man I can’t decide what I wanna listen to right before I die 
Fuck it shuffle’ll work, pop me a perc, call up my manager tell em there’s no more money in me. Tie the rope to the banister, slit my wrist, blue tarp under me as to not stain the carpet. 
My unreleased songs will be sold on market
All the profit will be to feed my dad and gran
Who will be the ones to feel the wrath of deaths hand
I’m sorry for what I’ve got planned 
I’ve come to learned I’m not much of a man 
Living a lie for a band 
A penny a thot I’ve got a grand

Ice Tray

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