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letra de dead on arrival - sam r i

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[sam r i]

this block hot only smell is the smoke of a chamber
serial scratched these bullets goin through you and your neighbor
i’m from the era of show and prove with the drive by’s
polo sport cuban linx & 325i’s

by the corners with quarter pitchers and baseheads
the face on a dollar the reason somebody face bled
where youth go missing more often than a fiend’s tooth
face on a milk carton and city crime deep roots

tripled up my bread i’m tryna cook up a big mac
they sh-t trash, no food for thought if anything a sh-t snack
dough in puerto rico and places that never nеar tax
still i k!lled the game thеse bullets stick in y’all like earwax

excuse my mood they found my bro in a bog
& he was lifeless and pale a floating body by some logs
type sh-t you gotta carry, pay da rent
roger clemens in these streets pitchin, packed like paid events

beef between crews they got together like a union
but they split like ike & tina as soon as they heard some shooting
steal their whip at night then flip the sh-t by da crack of dawn
the yay came wit privilege, bag white as asher roth
crabs in a bucket just tryna think out the box
but where the f-ck is the chance when you born and have to detox?
blood money, every motherf-ckin stacks pain
addicted to the pills & bullet time like max payne

[cuts by deadplantt]

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