[NO SALIVATION FOR THE PROMISE OF SALVATION][Intro: PAPA PINE]Ayy, yuh, yuh (Ayy)[Verse 1: PAPA PINE]Reach into my pocket, and I grab a couple crumpled hunnidsWeed look like some crumbled hunnidsBlunted out, the fuzz is hunting (Woo, woo)Paranoia turn my stomachH1 Hummer, rough and rugged, desert camo truck to the frontAnd shirt unbuttoned, seat adjusted (Ayy)One hunnid miles per hourBitch, I seem accustomed to life in the fast laneNothin' in the motherfucking gas tankDumpin' ashes and laughin'Fucking ducking what comes from the Government (Fuck)Peelin' out into the sunset (Fuck!)Eyes so low, look like a sunset[Chorus: PAPA PINE with YUNG CHRIST]Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life awayGrey*59, bitch, I signed my life awayGrey*59, bitch, I signed my life awayGrey*59, bitch, I signed my life away (Away!)[Verse 2: YUNG CHRIST]Back on my bullshit, know how to pimp itPut my foot on the fucking brakesSigned up for a life; became Yung ChristAll I got was a death wish, illness, and a piece of $uicideFuck this ego, fuck this prideEasily execution on my sideHomicide, homicide what we used to all the timeWe in the Benz, off the benzos, our depression clinical (what?)Ya' hear me? We in the Benz, off the benzos, our depression clinicalClinical, clinical mind (motherfucker)[Bridge]$uicide—$uicide—[Chorus: PAPA PINE with YUNG CHRIST]Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life awayGrey*59, bitch, I signed my life awayGrey*59, bitch, I signed my life awayGrey*59, bitch, I signed my life away (away!)[Interlude: RUBY DA CHERRY]We are tired of this new worldI don't want to be here$uicide, $uicide my end$uicide, $uicide my end[TRY HOWLING AT THE MOON WHILE BEING STRANGLED][Hook: Project Pat]You can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, son[Verse 1: LIL CUT THROAT]Meet me by the moon (What?), half past dusk (Fuck that)Back from the dustCut Throat, he loves them drugs and gunsChillin' in the cut, got about 20k and a gun (What?)Got a bottle of Adderall, cigarette buttsEvery day adds upDo I look like I give a fuck? (No)Every day of every month (What?)Bloody nights turn bloodierDeath could be right in front of ya (What?)Still wouldn't recognize her (—Hold up)Got a death list, that some still got to catch thisBust out the TEC, quickDie, bitch, die, bitch[Hook: Project Pat]You can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, son[Verse 2: 7TH WARD DRAGON]Ayy, you ever had to dig your own grave?Live your life with no name?Backwood full of romaine, okay'96 Benz with the cocaine paint, hoeHigh until my death, I got a propane tank lowGas seepin' all over the house, until my say soLight the fucking match, now that tank blowSo glad I stayed homeSomeone call the cops from the payphoneFlames all around me, man, I hope they fucking drown meCrown made of ashes, only way they fucking found meForget about me, only way you might not feel so lousyForget about me, on my own head, I would have priced a bounty[Hook: Project Pat]You can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, sonYou can feel the bullets from my steel, son, steel, son[Interlude: Bloody Mary]"In New Orleans, there were many bizarre things I always saw growing up here, especially in the graveyards. And as a child, I spent a lot of time in the graveyards. As an adult, I still spend a lot of time in the graveyards. But, as a child, it was a regular weekend thing to do—I always needed to know why. Um, sometimes my 'whys' got me in trouble."[MISSED MY CUE FOR CURTAIN CALL][Intro: RUBY DA CHERRY & $LICK $LOTH]And for my last trick, I don't think I'm cut out for this rap shitAyy, you wanna keep going—or?Nah, that's it[Verse 1: RUBY DA CHERRY]$uicide, I fucking scream it from the rooftopThe only thing I ever did worth mentionin'Ever since $lick burned me a CD of Lil WayneThat shit prolly still in my boomboxBut nowadays, I can walk into an establishmentAnd select myself on the fucking jukeboxIf I wanted to cop a black Countach, drive that shit like two blocksAnd then smash in the back of a new cop carNow I think I'm wanted too[Spoken Interlude](Yeah, let's get a bunch of face tats, it's goin' to be cool)(Soundcloud, yeah, like a Soundcloud rapper, ayy, man)(Cut that shit off man those boys suck, man, garbage, man, sound like a fuckin' generic Three Six, man, you dumb, bitch)(Shitty ass music)(You whore, you're way too fuckin' short, get the fuck outta here)[Verse 2: $LICK $LOTH]Yeah, still feel like I'm losing, ayyMe and kin still feel like we losing, ayyWe still feel like we losing, ayyLosing, losing—I'm on the lean, yeah, that drankI'm on them bars, don't wan' thinkI'm on a lotta amphetamines, got no time for sleepLost in my thoughtsI don't know who a friend or who a enemyNerves real disturbed, down from head to toeEver feel like sometimes you gotta let it go?Plenty of days, I thought this shit was overCreator of the movement; creator of the musicStill feel like I'm losing
