Headphones

When I'm in the booth can hear the sirens through the headphones, yeah

Im tired of seeing friendly faces on a headstone

My nigga went to jail soon I came home, he know he dead wrong

Gotta send 'em pictures of me laid up with my red bone

I know how it feel to be alone seeing dark clouds

Couldn't get no visit, but they want me to pull up now

My wrist a ticket 'bout to go and drop a buss down

Could've been done signed a deal in prison, but I had to turn it down

More money, more problems, more Glocks, more chops

More switches, more bodies for the morgue now