East Coast Gas Station - Mr. Green, Slaughter Rico

Street life is a drama

Fortunate thugs die for honor

Seen nights of insomnia

Portions of blood dry my armor

Horseman slugs blaze my chest

Like a 5 alarmer laid to rest

For silent mourners

Cuz haters played domestic violence on us

Now the wise performers

Got thousands of guys who warn us

Twice this size, enourmous

Nigga’s wildin' on housing corners

?N memory squads deep?

Spilling martinis in dark streets

From my last heart beat

While God, beam me to Star Fleet

One of them nigga’s bragged the most

Until I grab the toast

Clap at the sky after you die just to shoot at your ghost

And as far as you should know, to the hell with the studio

I’d rather spit a «fuck that nigga» verse up at his funeral

Just so your moms could hear it

I will spit the finest lyrics

While I pour some Henny out for you leavin the wine and spirits

Feelin like the devils near and never shed a tear

Got bad luck for 77 years like I done broke 11 mirrors