Black $uicide

Steady ridin' low, eyes steady swole
 Feel like Death Row, 1994
 $uicide tears, drippin' off our mothers
 Bullets in the chamber of the pistol in the cupboard
 Got a couple black tees with that indo sparkin'
 Bitch, don't even look my way, 'cause I fuckin' hate talkin'
 Got them spinners on the hearse, bitches for dessert
 Pour me up a fo', I'm sippin' codeine 'til the dirt
 Ridin' 'round Texas in a Lexus with a Florida license plate
 Outta state, eatin' grapes, blowin' dank, no yank, bitch
 Dry as fuckin' weed
 $lick, havin' a panic attack with the Mac on his lap, and now he makin' beats
 Smurf in the back tryna get some sleep
 Gas tank on E, not a stain on me, sunset, cool breeze
 Lookin' at the moon, and then I turn into a goon
 I'm doin' what I please, throwin' up some fuckin' threes
 Slide in deep while I'm tipped, tryna run cash up
 Steady fiendin' more income like
 "Damn, bruh, what I gotta do to get out of these problems I'm facin'?"
 Light a smooth J in my right hand
 Got bitches just like U2
 Get the cash, man, I didn't always have for the cab, man
 Ain't no tellin' what a nigga do to you
 Shake your hand or just shoot through you
 I'm the man that you show respect when seen cruisin' through
 Either that or get that ass fanned up
 Matter of fact, I rather run bands up
 Meet the pocket chopper, mini rocket-launcher
 Stay out the way, or get bagged up, nigga