The Very End Lyrics

Middle fingers up to the feds

Many men say they want me dead

Run it up til the very end

It's all about paper my nigga

I pop smoke for the dividends

Bullet proof like I'm fifty cent

Keep a hundred rounds aiming at your head

You better not play with me nigga

Write a song, drop a hit, go do a show like Ayyee

Counting money, making plays, push the whip like, Skeert

That's yo bitch, she ride the dick with both hands up like, Whoo

Fully loaded aimed at your dome, If you want smoke like, Brrtt Bahh

I'm sick and tired of violence I been secluded on a island

Vibin' by my lonesome I been hiding

Cause I move low key don't mean I'm frightened

I just keep my business private

That's a private life, on a private plane

I can't even name the pilot

Hop off the jet, i might have jet lag but that's yet to be decided

Smoke Marry Jane get back on the plane but nahh this time I'm not flying

I break down the tree and get the highest

That loud so good it's got me silent

I done got so high I stopped replying

I told the play I'm on the way but he already knows I'm lying

Counting money got me occupied is that good or bad timing

Killing beats verbal homicide every time I get to writing

That hit stick goes a hundred yard like it's playing for the Titans

These niggas say they wanna kill me but that's very unlikely

Don't make death threats you might excite me

I'll spark a stick quick just like some lightning

Gotta gun so big it looks surprising

Leave a nigga shell shocked cause I'm not fighting

You don't want that real beef cause you gone have to kill me

Your best bets to duck, turn and run, cause I'll kill me a nigga

Middle fingers up to the feds

Many men say they want me dead

Run it up til the very end

It's all about paper my nigga

I pop smoke for the dividends

Bullet proof like I'm fifty-cent

Keep a hundred rounds aiming at your head

You better not play with me nigga

Write a song, drop a hit, go do a show like Ayyye

Counting money, making plays, push the whip like, Skeerrt

That's yo bitch, she ride the dick with both hands up like, Whooo

Fully loaded aimed at your dome, If you want smoke like, Brrt Bahh

Many men say they want me dead

But those same men used to be my friends

Good vibes came to an end

And now I'm not sparing these niggas

Fuck that I ain't scared of these niggaz

I'll kill yo ass if you threatening me nigga

I'm ten toes down to the ground

Until they come bury me nigga

I've never been scared to die

So fucking with me is like committing suicide

Cat like reflexes with the nine, like I'm living my eighth life

Quick to pull a trigger, bullets hit and split ya

Like he was swisher, he thought it was sweet until I made him bitter

Shots to his body fucking up his liver

Send out ammunition til it gets delivered

But I'm really not trynna known as a killer

I been keeping the peace

But them killers around gone stay with a missile

Heavy artillery for any nigga trynna kill me with a pistol

Shoot as far as I can see, with accuracy

They will, but I won't miss you

You don't want that real beef cause you gone have to kill me

Your best bets to duck, turn and run, cause I'll kill me a nigga

Middle fingers up to the feds

Many men say they want me dead

Run it up til the very end

It's all about paper my nigga

I pop smoke for the dividends

Bullet proof like I'm fifty cent

Keep a hundred rounds aiming at your head

You better not play with me nigga

Write a song, drop a hit, go do a show like Ayyee

Counting money, making plays, push the whip like, Skeerrt

That's yo bitch, she ride the dick with both hands up like, Whoo

Fully loaded aimed at your dome, If you want smoke like, Brtt Bahh