Mannequins Are My Best of Friends

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Riding down the block in a 'Lac
Got a Glock in my lap
As I holler "Where y'at?"
No fear of attack because I know his peers ain't got his back
Creeping and I'm peeping now the tank out of gas
Head home to the 7th Ward
The ride there was fast
At last
Walking into the house I know the moment passed
Then I look into the mirror
Noticed shattered glass
Looking like a spider web caused by a blast

Trapping out the pine box
Hades got the block hot
Heron in my shoe box
Noddin' with a blood clot
Used to sell that dope but still never had no money
Slanging to fill my habits addict serving up a junkie
I find it funny when I start to tip toe with the reaper
He start to running because I usually start to beg and plead him to
Take my soul
Take my life
Take my last breath
He never did so I took his and I manifest

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