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Well, hell she walk like zombie |
|
Talk too cold |
|
Live in a graveyard |
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Like the one i call home |
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And when she wish riger mortis |
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On my soul |
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I don't wanna tell her |
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But she gotta be told |
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Because she talk like crazy |
|
Making my bed up |
|
Messing with the future |
|
When she know i got to get up |
|
Cannot break this silence |
|
F**k my momentum |
|
I ain't gonna play |
|
Because i know just where she send 'em |
|
To the grave! |
|
To grave! |
|
And i say |
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I just can't play dead |
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I just can't play dead |
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So i got one for my money |
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Two for my soul |
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Three times, i begging |
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Get me outta this hole! |
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I see her roll her sleeve up |
|
Lokking for a beat up |
|
Telling you the things to feed the flavour in your ear |
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But when she spit that venom |
|
Just like a viper |
|
She evil to the core |
|
But then she know that's what you like |
|
Got the shit on eleven |
|
Serving up a tension |
|
She cooking in her kitchen |
|
Seasoning, before she send 'em |
|
To the grave! |
|
To grave! |
|
And i say |
|
I just can't play dead |
|
I just can't play dead |
|
Because she talk like crazy |
|
Making my bed up |
|
Messing with the future |
|
When she know i got to get up |
|
Cannot break this silence |
|
F**k my momentum |
|
I ain't gonna play |
|
Because she send 'em |
|
To the grave! |
|
To grave! |
|
Like i said |
|
I just can't play dead |
|
I just can't play dead |
