Skydive

Esham

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    [Talking]
    You need me to peal ya banana? Rock the bandana?
    Scared to come to Detroit? Runnin', hidin' cracked out
    Witcha momma. While you play witcha baby dolls and
    Pajamas, don't letcha moms getcha brains blew out
    Wit' the cannon. I know you scared. Oh you scared
    You scared. I know you scared. Oh you scared, you
    Scared. Check this out...

    It's about time you turned this off
    'Cuz I'ma go and get my sawed-off
    And drink some fuckin' Smirnoff
    And blow ya fuckin' head off
    So much blood can't get the red off
    You're better really dead off
    Say the wrong thing can set a war off
    Like Hitler, Adolf
    It's a thin line between showin' love and settin' hate off
    Pushin' powder for power, takin' cream from cowards
    I would hate to not clock every hour
    Something wicked comes this way-off
    So you better pray-off
    For another day, if not you might be shot
    Wit' the AK-off
    Die when the bullets spray off
    Jesus Christ, you begged for ya life twice
    When the mortician embalmed ya body he took ya ice
    In the coffin people often said you looked nice
    Witcha Royal Blue suit on, half ya face gone
    It's time to pay up when the bodies catch the spray up
    Evil that's still in these streets still won't allow me to put
    the K up
    When the dope don't weigh up, these bitches wanna lay up
    All in the D Spot and get the streets hot
    The narcos roll around here lookin' for the crooks
    The hatas live around here give me dirty looks
    I heard some hatas plottin' wanna kick my door in
    'Cuz I gots more ends then all of ya hoe-ass kins
    Oh no, can't trust nobody, this game is deadly
    And murder's on my mind inside my musical medley
    And I

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    (Chorus)
    Skydive, just to stay alive
    Maximum overdrive, some don't survive
    I need some 'Therapy' but ain't nobody helpin' me
    These bitches think I'm crazy
    I'm fallin', I hear the demons callin' [2x]

    Callin' my name, steady beggin' for change
    Don't blame me for Russian Roulette when you started the game
    Dead men don't sing, ain't no heroes in Hell
    So you walk the bloody trail, either dead or in jail
    I'ma bless you but you should pray for me
    'Cuz I be doin' wicked shit on the daily
    Suicidalist, the suicidal recital
    The U-N-H-O-L-Y be my muthafuckin' title
    Murder rappers and combat so homicidal
    I'm the center of the universe
    I burst worse, I shoot first
    When I do dirt you cursed
    Last ride in the hearse
    The preacher kicked the last verse
    He told everybody gather around
    If ya mind is lost, may your soul be found
    If a bullet took away somebody you really loved
    I see ya blessin's comin' down from the Heavens above
    'Cuz I

    (Chorus)

    Información de la canción

    Composición: E. Smith y E.A. Smith

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