Murder At The Cookout

I'm sick and tired of living without it
Swear the sound of death be the loudest
Blood stains to match with the outfit
Smiling just to hide the pain
Cuz I don't know no other way
We raised by the street lights,
(Yea)
Young niggas trynna get by
(Yea)
Man I'd rather die broke than to die famous
Swear I'd rather be a joke than a entertainer
I ain't throwin up the peace sign
(Yea)
Going to war imma get mine
(Yea)
You gon need a bigger cell tryna contain us I been growing out my shell in my Haitus
Chorus
And now we got it going on
Yea yea, yea yea, get it on (x2)
Got out my head I'm bout tired and mad as hell
Everything on fire see the smoke but I don't inhale
Now we're growing trauma by the minute to boost the sales
(Man that boy speaking facts
I might as well)
Imma be a Soulja till my skin is pale
We gon keep moving weight till I tip the scale
Imma keep on breaking doors ion ring the bell
Cuz I gotta get in while I can
And now we got it going on
Yea yea, yea yea, get it on (x2)
Yea yea, yea yea, get it on (x2)