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letra de in the end - young ed

[into: the devil]
yeeeah
the taker’s back in this mothaf-cka
from 96 onto infinity
got all you n-ggas on para
scared of death, n-gga
and this is on the real
cause we k!llas
and this is the end

[verse 1: young ed]
will i die with my eyes open wide in the sky?
five cries from a tec, leave me paralyzed on the steps
will i be broke, or stackin’ from this rappin’?
or will i sell dope, get smoked and dumped in a trashcan
the last stand of a pimp with a dent left in his brim
dug by the grim reap from his trench
in a sense, i feel the end closin’ in
holdin’ the double-m direct from the crypt
keeper, that wants to put young ed to sleep, cuz
all the dirt did murkin when i creep up
will i leave the world with a grudge
and no love for the hate and creatin set trippin
and dumpin slugs
they say we thugs
that will never get no love
ghetto madness, the sadness has us in a struggle
to hustle and bubble, where is the love
for a young n-gga to stay outta trouble
i guess there’s none as i run from the devil
who’s tryin’a catch me with s-xy temptations from his level
gunshots echo all through the san fransick
and more die from the northside, the village of the lunatics
n-ggas say peace, but playa do you really mean it?
they say it’s allright on the other side
but i’ve never seen it
i guess they dreamin, or fiendin for fantasy
but i can’t fantasize cause i thrive on reality
gradually it’s my climb to the top
it’s my time to stack and when i die, that time still won’t stop
i roll with hards cause the softs get tossed
this is the cartel from young cel to baldhead, i’m on the dolph
lives get lost when shots from 25 glocks let loose
black man and moose from the hill, real and quick to shoot
will i stack loot
or smoke so much my lunges pollute?
and k!ll me slow, joint in my hand
can’t stand that i [?]
i just ain’t so
cause death can creep up like a ghost
and push you over the edge
cause edge too little close
and most n-ggas like that get smoked
i guess i’m best to back up and stack up or wind up smoked
real hard to cope with haters out here tryina slit your throat
to get your dough
and leave you dead off on skidrow
you didn’t know?
well, hold on cause that time is comin
we reap what we saw from smokin blunts and pullin guns and
startin funk when punks grin
so comprehend on how you go
cause you never know until the end

[the devil]
hahaha!

- young ed

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