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letra de anamosity - tom skeemask

i can’t understand, the actions of my master plan
how can a n—- revel in the thoughts of a dead man?
the scripts of what i hear and what i see
now let me tell ya bout this anna’, rip to [?]
i’m chiefin’ on a fat sack of bud and i lose weight
my n—- ski the man will check ya [?]
chief the blunt and now i’m high as h-ll
when all of a sudden and out the blue i hear this f-ckin’ crash
we started balling, glass is falling on my f-ckin’ ass
we ran outside and checked to see up out my [?] kid
that n—-‘s gone, but he done caught my line with this sh-t
we caught him slippin’, and we’re trippin’, and it’s on forreal
my n—-, don’t lie, just tell me straight up, man, who did this sh-t?
man, don’t trip, you know mе well, and think i did the task
true, run up, you did this sh-t, that’s why wе beat yo’ ass
and after all this sh-t, he thought i was a trollin’ prankster
but then he soften, but he rip in visions of a gangsta

visions of a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
visions of a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
visions of a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta

caught up in the rap shiet, passin’ by the [?] of a criminal
strapped with the plastic glock, bustaz know: don’t test my nutz
stormin’ from the ghetto depths, stunt harder, no memphis [?]
still pimpin’ sl-ts like a real n—-, trick, can’t you dig it, b-tch?
don’t f-ck wit no thugs, poppin slugs, muggin’, druggin’ b-tches
kid, happy blastin’ hoes, slangin’ corpses off to ditches
lil’ trey in the road, b-tch, don’t test me like a prankster
real drama for yo mama, is the portrait of a gangsta
high till i die, psycho villian scorn, project born
smokin’ mary weed noise, the sound of a corn
got no love for a lame soul, i’m low down and bound to clown
smoked out with the family, [?] n—-s in the orange mound
packin’ k!lla thangs, sell those drugs, probably go insane
young [?] thug is broken, it’s all in the f-ckin’ game
mirror mirror on the wall, inflictin’ the anna, mane
a-as, i take a gauge, i show these b-tches a gangsta
visions of a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
visions of a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
visions of a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta

it all started here about a motherf-ckin’ year ago
i was chillin’ with my n—- [?] black, chokin’ on the f-ckin’ endo
he told me to scope up out my little bro
he was tryna join a gang, but i couldn’t let him go, uh
but, he like me, i chose the life of the streets
now, to be a playa, but all about my p
i have a very strong head, and never to be misled
i had to catch my little brother before he ended up dead
two p’s in the bucket, i say “f-ck it, what ya gonna do with me?”
leave me alone so i can be a motherf-ckin’ playa, g
straight out the mound, gangsta sh-t is what i f-ckin’ choose, you see
pick up the nine, watch this n—- get blown off his f-ckin’ feet
dead or alive, that’s the way my life has always been
i hope the man in the sky can forgive me for all my sins
when i look at my little brother, sigh, i see the devil seize him
f-ck this life of a gangsta, it’s always just a f-ckin’ mess

- tom skeemask

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