The bullet goes back in the gun
The bullet hole's closing
this chest of a nigga
Now he back to square one
Screaming, "Shoot don't please"
I put my fifth back on my hip
It's like a VCR rewinding a hit
He put his hands back on his bitch
My caravan doors open up
I jumped back in the van
and closed it shut
Going reverse, slowly prepared
My nigga Jungle utters out something crazy like,
"Go he there"
Sitting in back of this chair,
we hitting the roach
The smoke goes back in the blunt,
the blunt gets bigger in growth
Jungle unrolls it,
put his weed back in the jar
The blunt turns back into a cigar
We listen to Stevie,
it sounded like heavy metal fans
Spinnin records backwards of AC DC
I give my niggas dap,
jump out the van back first
Back upstairs,
took off the black shirt
I'm in the crib with the
phone to my ear
Listen up so y'all can figure
out the poem real clear
The voice on the phone was like,
"Outside right we"
So with my mouth wide,
holding my heat
Bullets I had plenty to squeeze,
plenty for ya
'Cause Jungle said,
"Block your on enemies the"
Hung up the phone,
then the phone rang
I'm laid in the bed thinking 'bout
this pretty young thing
Who left, she came back,
her clothes just fell to the rug
She fell to my bed and gave me a hug
I told her, "No hell"
She talking 'bout, "Me kiss"
Bobbed her head then spit the
nut back in my dick
Started sucking with no hands,
a whole lotta spit
Then got up and put her
bra back on her tits
Got fully dressed and told me,
"Stressed really I'm"
Picked up her Gucci bag and
left her nigga behind
Walking through the door,
she rang the bell twice
I vomited Vodka back in my
glass with juice and ice
The clock went back from three,
to two, to one
And that's about the time
the story begun
That's when I first heard the
voice mail on the cell
It said, "Son we found that
nigga we gotta kill"
Hey yo son, hey yo son,