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silent death (big ghost ltd. remix) - rick hyde & chase fetti lyrics

[verse: chase fetti]
i put three on every ten i cop
chain smoke look like some hookah when you in the spot
i’m really in them blocks
f*ck you doing on my ave if you ain’t finna shop?
if you ain’t stay up off my path mark, i’m sending shots
we could beef like n*ggas don’t f*ck with swine
i believe that the world is mine they keep saying its perfect time for me to black out
these sh*lls look like fries n*gga don’t make me pull this mac out
feel like shaq with the back*down
ay n*gga since we talking beef i got mad cows
n*gga i’m a cash cow it’s bulletproofs and straps ’round
i swore i was rich the first time a n*gga cashed out
i sold a hundred bricks and you still struggling with that pack, how? (n*gga, look)
don’t quit yo day job, my tеxas b*tch head so good i call her “face mob
i don’t takе no days off, this amg looking like a motherf*cking racecar
suck a d*ck p*ssy n*gga i hate y’all
[verse: rick hyde]
ok the money got me feeling like i’m seven*five
every time i write a verse feel like i’m sellin’ pies
we put n*ggas in the he*rs*s if you need a ride
have you lookin’ like you tom cruise in vanilla sky
the revolution gon’ be televised
every time you get on wax or on a camera you start tellin’ lies
two peezy’s i call em’ nina sky, ’cause they both go for the high or i could break em’ down like eighty*nine
my n*gga you don’t show a wavy sign
all these rappers doing nothing for the culture with these lazy lines
my young n*gga love the baby nine (woo)
that’s yo’ ass he catch you smoking like you baby brine
the work was strong enough to take a five
i’m stepping on it like omega sign, anything that make a pie
my children understated better when i say “goodbye”
i make sure i’ll send them hundreds to my baby ma’

[verse: street justice]
f*ckin’ on the fuzz spent nine thousand in saks fifth
all i copped was black pants and black kicks
b*tch you had to stunt like jack chan doing backflips
hate will get the cash to 808 in the casket
n*gga, we don’t cash out the same
when braising in the spot my cash out insane
i might see out then go cash out the range
i might pop a perc tryna max’ out the pain n*gga

- rick hyde chase fetti lyrics

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