Chuwee
Текст песни Minds That Collide Feat. Stevie Crooks & Gibby

Yo, let's play a mind game
And let's pretend that you are me and I
I warned you now don't think too hard it could be suicide
Homicide, cause I'm do or die
Even if you was I, pull out that tool and try
And hit you twice and you would die
You would lie, flat on your face if our moons collide
Stay in your lane, I stay driving in the suicide
Homicide, I drive crazy and my mama right
I'm obliged to harming people with this 45 of mine
I'ma let it shine like them gold diggings on that 84 cadillac
Nick nack, had a gat, patty came running round the corner with a fatty sack
I need half of that, click clack, give me daddy's cash
Lock your doors and windows with your happy ass
Niggas come equipped with shit to make you do the cabbage patch
I'm just stating what I see and maybe have to blast
And if our brains cross paths, don't make me act like that

... minds that collide
The guns in hands motherfucker homicide
... minds that collide
The guns in hands motherfucker homicide

I karamba, I swayze past your mind, feel my thunder
It's gibby not your average rapper turn from a hustler
Wont cut you, so what you wanna see me you can't
Cause you like stevie, got knowledge like mister vinny
Bye bye, cause there's no coming back
My niggas roll the weed, rollin that rugged budda sack
Smoking on that premium gas, I find it hard to myself
To make believe, everything that comes out of my mouth
Be soaking up, you breathe
So I, by any means, any means necessary
I pull in and pull out, tooth fairy,
My mind gonna drive... when chicks start to collide
Rewind them like nord berries

Now I done make up my mind, we killin these niggas and puttin them into dirt
Until they days up, so start that shit that we just fade up
We out here, no favors, time is a wasting
And we out peace, I'm pacing yo, I'm going no fakin shit

... minds that collide
The guns in hands motherfucker homicide
... minds that collide
The guns in hands motherfucker homicide

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out

Hey yo, I toss you off a building and jump and the same time
I bucket a 9, inside your mind, I untie my jordan 5
Retire on my back, hoping they make me fly
It's the part where I can see what rap money can really buy
As truth pass the turf story, I take 11 shots of bacardi
Fallen inside, drunk and I reload and continue dumping
Tend to go, honestly I can't take it no more
Maybe I'm crazy, so I aim below and crack a window
7 is the window to heaven, but 6 is for the bullet hit the 5
Didn't work, but I had to test em
While closing my eyes, acrobatically dive
Knowing possibly I can die
Homicide, suicide, as you flew inside the 6
Collision through me through the 5th
Leaving 4 bullets in the clip
Give you the last 3, one left
Look in the camera, with the hammer, this is automatic roulette

... minds that collide
The guns in hands motherfucker homicide
... minds that collide
The guns in hands motherfucker homicide.