Letra de Dead Guys

[Hook]
I told them dead guys I dont bury them
Nigga play with them
They gon’ have to bury him
Fuck with my dead guys
You's a dead guy
Fuck with my dead guys
You's a dead guy

[Verso 1]
Need to play with your bitch
Before you play with my money
I been, not, never let a nigga take shit from me
Bussing bout them dead guy
To you a dead guy
Fuck your chest
I'm aiming at your head now (head shot)
I've got a hundred sitting in the clip for you, actus
You niggas talking shit, who really not factus
I found a nigga, Dog I need it all bad
He don't bring it back
I'm a blow out his back
Play with my change
I'm a spray his brain
And leave the streets main
With a permanent stain
Let a Nigga play me
Who the fuck playin
You and your partner body
In the woods detain

[Hook]
I told them dead guys I dont bury them
Nigga play with them
They gon’ have to bury him
Fuck with my dead guys
You's a dead guy
Fuck with my dead guys
You's a dead guy

[Verso 2]
Pull up on the horse shoe
Let the choppers talk
When them yappers bark
Bodies get put in chalk
Now you niggers want to burse it
You use to curse me
Bitch I'm sipping gold bottles
You lil’ niggers thirsty
Still smoking bobby brown
I’m on Kaley green
Cup full a Nyquil
I’m on promethazine
You Niggas playin with yuh self
Playing with yuh elf
Fuck around and be a body playin with my wealth
I done had hard time
Was no hand outs
Play time, bed time
Was no planned routes
Just a journey to
All fake niggas shook
Speak the truth over hard [?] street
Niggas look, real crook
By the book
Never did I testify
AK 40 plenty shooters bitch
Don’t you kiss the fire
Cause these toaster gon’ burn you like toast
I’m smoking on this [?] from the west coast

[Hook]
I told them dead guys I dont bury them
Nigga play with them
They gon’ have to bury him
Fuck with my dead guys
You's a dead guy
Fuck with my dead guys
You's a dead guy

[Verso 3]
In the streets
Like the G’s
And the Most
We stay hustling
Like the foes
Pole club full a smoke
Nothing but the [?]lounge
Young Niggas throwin gang signs in the crowd
Champagne being pop
Bitches poppin’ ass
Boss nigga sipping at the glass, throwing cash
OS niggas watching from, the sidelines
Browns on their face see real nigga shine
Lambrigini got their mouth hanging like a monkey
Down [?] hoes fatter than a donkey
The whole club going up
On a Saturday
They party white liquor
Till the next day
Everyday I make a plate
Thats a chick day
And we living every damn day
Like it’s chick day
Stuntin like a baby
Flexin’ like i’m slim
Cash money nigga
Hustle but I’m [?]
Get yuh cake up
Get yuh pussy made up
Yow Niggas that’s yuh table with no food on they plate...bro

[Conclusi�n]
Damn, Shit
That ain't right my nigga
Yow..That’s fucked up
Very
Don’t fuck with my dead guys my nigga