SPACE KAMP
x2015x
Spyte – (2am)
lyrics:
2 o’clock in the AM
n i’m doin shots to my brain stem
2pac out my basement
i got 2 thots that i’m way inn
thats 2 options I’m weighin
my crew poppin, i play to win,
got you watchin these blades spin–
sooo
what i’m tryna git at right here is,-
2 to the zero 1 – 6 my year bish, –
we really in the 6 right here,
gotta watch my six like the bricks right here,
goin hard, on the grind, like i missed my gear
light em up!
light em up right now, –
everybody wit me comin up iced out,
everybody wit me in the club type loud
oh they love my style,-
shit the old me bout to jump right out
they don’t really know me or what the fuck i’m bout
seen a lot of young G’s tryna run my route
n that’s game bitch
sk thats the gang bitch
fuckboyz we don’t hang with
real talk is the language
10 in the pistol n 8 in the pump
kickin your door in n wakin u up
whippin like i never hurd of brakes
no chill, pistol whip him till the burner breaks..
(snub nose .38, hit em in the vertebre)
pour a little for my homies that i’ll meet up at the pearly gates
all these young mother fuckers puttin numbers on the murder rate
it’s mother fuckin murder shit.. its murderous
homie caught a foul one, never learned to quit
bodies all around son, like capernacis
—what kinda world is this?
kinda deep, try to process that
5 in the jeep, n its all jet black
live from the beach, where the conquest at,
where the waters run deep, ya we brought west back
… buddy u don’t wanna fuck wit him
i bet he… i bet he probly brought the pump wit him
black betty, or a bag wit a bomb in it,
somebody bouta bag a body bigger balls winnin.
that’s what’s up
i bought a gun barrel bigger than a plastic cup
it go !@!!!&%^* ^&((&*^! better back it up
or be the body in the back of the bandage bus
that’s bang for the buck
try to hang with the boss u be hangin it up
u aint bangin enuff…
brought a banger for your brain n a bag for your stuff
start bagging it up,
like thanks very much
post online start braggin im nuts
no hard times i’m makin my luck
in the belly of the beast, get shanked in the guts,
stab holes in your fleece, i’m draggin my nuts…
take a drag off the dutch, sip somethin pour a little out,
(2am) turn up till the liquor out, drink till i spit it out,
but these fake mothafuckaz gettin on what i’m sick about,
n that’s game bitch
sk thats the gang bitch
fuckboyz we don’t hang with
real talk is the language
10 in the pistol n 8 in the pump
kickin your door in n wakin u up