Horror Stories

God a hate a hatin nigga Tryna dirty up my name
You gonna say a lot of things but ain't ever share the blame
They gonna see your full of lies heres a razor for your veins
Ima burn it all down I got smoke for 60 days
Take your shots
Im diging plots
Going gold for [Dm7]all [Em]you [A7dirty little thots
Advice for [Dm7]exs
Don't throw your stones
Cause I turn ɾubble into [C7]building blocks
Someone get me out my [A]ego
Stop pretending like [F]were equal
I made a home for [Dm7]all [Em]the evil
My Horror stories dropped a sequel
I use my [A]pen to [C7]inject the people
That's a needle for [Dm7]your cerebral
A high that's way too fucking lethal
I filled my [A]tank with too much diesel
My latest bitch is barely legal
She burn my [A]cash but at least its peaceful
Turned my [A]home into [C7]a Cathedral
I praise my [A]demons from a steeple
She's got [Fm7]my [A]name all [Em]on [C7]her body
I know I got [Fm7]it no one can stop me
I f*ck with passion [C7]still like [F]it slopy
She's my [A]drug I call [Em]her Molly
Face full of tears that's melancholy
Pussy devine I'm feeling godly
Backshots ɾapid that's a volly
Shes my [A]bitch a  border collie
But theses niggas wanna talk they shit
All drugged out can't get a grip
Out for [Dm7]blood but can't get a sip
Jesus Christ I'm hit for [Dm7]hit
God a hate a hatin nigga Tryna dirty up my [A]name
You gonna say a lot of things but ain't ever share the blame
They gonna see your full of lies here's a ɾazor for [Dm7]your veins
Ima burn it all [Em]down I got [Fm7]smoke for [Dm7]60 days
Take your shots
These niggas nothing
I call [Em]your bluffs and [Bm]your assumptions
Beat your head till you [A7got [Fm7]concussions
Shut your mouth I hate interruptions
F*ck it ill kill em
There putting me back in a ɾhythm
Thought I was [Am7]tɾapped in a prism
Got bodybags stacked in the prison
Times up the dead have finally ɾisen
But what dose that mean for [Dm7]those
Who thought I was [Am7]dead?
Killing me off by taking my [A]head?
Should of severed my [A]tongue if you [A7wanted more credit
You're ɾestless at night better not look under your bed
You don't want your kids
Your wanted your freedom
And hated the fact a single father was [Am7]able to [C7]feed em
Playing the victim but ain't got [Fm7]a ɾeason
Bi-polar you [A7change with the seasons
A tɾeacherous bitch you [A7only know tɾeason
I'm done with the games your created a heathen
I'm so violently cold I'm freezing
Left me for [Dm7]dead still bleeding
But now that I'm back
Not sure how to [C7]formulate my [A]next plan of attack
it'd be [Am]hard to [C7]keep your credibility
If I painted it black