Lyrics:

[Song 1]

[Verse 1: YUNG PLAGUE]
(Aye, yuh, yuh)
Reach into my pocket, and I grab a couple crumpled hundreds
We look like some crumbled tundras
Blunted out, then fussing something
Paranoia, turn my stomach
H1 Hummer, rough and rugged
Desert camo truck to the front, shirt unbuttoned, seat adjusted
One-hundred miles per hour, bitch, I seem accustomed
'Til life in the fast lane nothing
And the motherfucking gas tank dumpin'
Ashes are laughin'
Fucking duckin' what comes from the Government
Peelin' out until the sunset
Eyes so low, look like a sunset

[Chorus: YUNG PLAGUE]
Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away (always!)

[Verse 2: YUNG CHRIST]
Back on my bullshit
Now I have to pay a debt
Put my foot on the fuckin' brakes
Silent for life, he came Yung Christ
All I got was a death wish and centerpiece of $uicide
Fuck this ego, fuck this rap
Easily execution
On my side
Homicide, homicide
What we used to all the time
We in the Benz, off the benzos our depression clinical (right)
You hear me?
We in the Benz, off the benzos our depression clinical, clinical
Clinical mind (motherfucker)

[Outro: YUNG PLAGUE]
$uicide
$uicide
Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away
Grey*59, bitch, I signed my life away (always!)


[Song 2]

[Guitar Interlude: RUBY DA CHERRY]
We are tired of this new world
I don't want to be here
$uicide, $uicide, my end
$uicide, $uicide, my end

[Hook: Project Pat]
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some

[Verse 1: LIL CUT THROAT]
Meet me by the moon (right)
Half past dusk (fuck that)
Back from the dust
Cut Throat, he loves them drugs and guns
Chillin' in the cut
Got about 20k and a gun (what?)
Got a bottle of Adderall, cigarette butts
Every day adds up
Do I look like I give a fuck? (no!)
Every day up every month (what?)
Bloody knives turns bloody-ah
Death could be right in front of ya' (what?)
Still wouldn't recognize her (hold up)
Got a death list
Guess some still gotta catch this motherfucking TEC
Quick, die, bitch
Die, bitch

[Hook: Project Pat]
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some

[Verse 2: RUBY DA CHERRY]
Aye, you ever had to dig your own grave?
Live your life with no name?
Backwood full of dro' mane, okay
'96 Benz with that cocaine
Pay [?] tell my death got a propane tank
Blow gas, seeping all over the house, everytime I say so
Light a fucking match
Let that tank blow
So glad I stayed home
Someone called the cops on the payphone
Flames all around me, man, I hope they fucking drown me
Crown made of ashes, only way they fucking found me
Forget about me, only way you might not feel so lousy
Forget about me, on my own head out with the price, the bounty

[Hook: Project Pat]
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some
You can feel the bullets from my steel son, steel some


[Song 3]

[Interlude]
In New Orleans, there were many bizarre things I always saw growing up here—especially in the graveyards
And as a child, I spent a lot of time in the graveyards
And as an adult, I still spend a lot of time in the graveyards
But as a child, it was a regular weekend thing to do
I always needed to know why
Uhm, sometimes my 'why's' got me in trouble

[Verse 1: RUBY DA CHERRY]
For my last trick, I don't think I'm cut out for this rap shit
(Aye, you wanna keep going—or?)
Nah, that's it
$uicide, I fucking scream it from the rooftop
The only thing I ever did worth mentioning ever since $lick
Burned me a CD of Lil Wayne, that shit probably still in my boombox
But nowadays, I can walk into an establishment and select myself on a fucking jukebox
If I wanted to cop a black Countach
Drive that shit like two blocks; then I smash in the back of a new cop car, now I think I'm wanted too

[Interlude]
Yeah, just get a bunch of face tats, it's gonna be cool
Man, fuck you
Why you acting like such a bitch?
SoundCloud that, SoundCloud that, SoundCloud that
Ay man, cut that shit off, man. It sucks man, garbage, man
Sounds like a fucking generic Three 6, man
Fuck the $uicideboy$, shitty ass music
Too dumb. Get the fuck outta here
Change the station, they fucking wack, lil' whore
They're way too fucking short—get the fuck outta here

[Verse 2: $CRIM]
Yeah, still feel like I'm losing, ay
Me and kin still feel like we losing, ay
We still feel like we losing, ay
Losing, losing
I'm on the lean, yeah, that drank
I'm on them bars, blowing thing
I'm on a lot amphetamines
Got no time for sleep, lost in my thoughts
I don't know who a friend or who a enemy
Nerves are disturbed, down from head to toe
Have feelings sometimes gotta let it go
Plenty of days thought shit was over
Creator of the movement, creator of the music
Still feel like I'm losing