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• Artiste: City Morgue
• Titre: PTSD
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Thraxx Ayy, Holy War! I wake up with hand on grip Wake up with hoes on dick Wake up with Remington Wake up with no options Lost all my work when the pot bust (Work) Threw it out the window when the cops rush (Fuck outta here) Pussy ass nigga, you is not us And your fuckin' brain's getting mopped up, my guap up Jumpin' on the jet, it ain't JetBlue (No no) Niggas frontin' on the net, I'ma catch you (Fuck out of here) I'ma pop a vessel, I'ma fuckin' deck you 38 special, curl up like a pretzel Crash in the coupe, do the Crash Bandicoot (Skrrt) I'ma crash in the coupe, do the Crash Bandicoot (Skrrt) Clip on the Draco, tip on potato Emoji halos, R.I.P. your baby I wake up with hand on grip Wake up with hoes on dick I wake up with Remington Wake up with no options Ayy, blood all on the Glock, it make it hard for me to pop it Jammin' on the spot, it make it hardfor me to cock it Acid in the socket, make it hard for them to spot it With a bitch, bullshit, Audemars flood wrist Large clip, large stick, one in the cartridge I'm Sargent, you cadet, now go get to marching Sin City, sinner demeanor, one of the troops General, war with it, I'll finish 100 proof Mask on me, no ID Put a air bubble in your boy I.V Young Freddy, from your lucid dreams Ain't no human gonna capture me I wake up with hand on grip Wake up with hoes on dick I wake up with Remington Wake up with no options Hand on grip Hoes on dick Remington No options