its friday the thirteenth biatch
thats when i wrote this joint
im 17 and from md
im white...an shit
Lyrics
worm words on a hova craft work with a shovel
laughed at, if you dont shine ya lova through
a brass act, skip to that crack rap i like
the stacked act/ (spit on the mic, likes its ya last act)
chainsaws roar in the midst of night, step
carefully i saw the mist of sight wrecked
everything black like the core of the ocean
dark cries pierce the mind of the lonely and broken
till the moon sets down over the dead sea mayb
well be safe from this evil unholy graven
place that were stuck on the thirteenth day
of the seventeenth hour in this month of may
theres no reason to my rhymes or rhymes to my reason,
up for treason stealth crimes brought trial to be pleasin
yo i love trial
chill for a while let beat run
start like 150
im not an aggresive drive i jus drive aggresive
and i approach my verse shameless, impressive
your game-less and out of g-unit
the night of all sins this day we shoudl remove it
from the calander of romans shown in fire
till a star lit place open blown in silence
and this case condemned to the death so why
is this fair leave space to its self go hide
from the sand storm movin rapidly from the east
random problems in my head on friday the thirteenth
