Lyrics:

Yeah, whassup?
RIP, shout-out to my dead partners

My nigga went crazy, he's trapped in a cell
He chopped off his fingers and sent them back in the mail
If life is a bitch, I'll pimp it just like a ho
I make all my money from slangin ounces of coke
I shot at the bitch 'cause she was a fiend
She sprayed me with mace and tried to run off with my ring
I'm livin' in fear, motherfuckers wanna jack when
A 187 nigga's best friend is a Mack 10
Niggas be rollin up on me and loadin the clip and say I'm slippin
But I'm in a fucked up state of mind
And I'm packin a nine and I'm not trippin
'Cause I'm strapped, thinkin about my nigga took out in the game
R.I.P., Plan B, Jessie was his name
So rest in peace, peace my nigga RIP

R.I.P., R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
Yeah whassup Clean?
I ain't forgot about you homie
Johnny B whassup Clay?
I ain't forgot about you either
Hope y'all tear this thang knahI'msayin?
Big Dave, Jr, Six-O-Mobb, yeah

When I was young I had the lust to pull the trigger
So I know how it feels to shoot another nigga
Take one of mine, I'll take ten of yours
You call up your posse, I'll call up my boys
The funk, it was jumpin', but why should it jump?
Niggas with Uzi's and hella niggas with pumps
Ready to spray, do a nigga up proper
Did my boy in good chop him up with the chopper?
See some more from the north Johnny B from the crew
Seen a nigga get blasted his bloody foot in his shoe
The bag, the body, the body, the bag
From forties to funerals from chronic to zags
I'm rollin up one for niggas that died
I pour out the forty and hit the strip in my ride
And let down the top 'cause my top drop
Handle my Glock in case I gotta pop

R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
Yeah fool whatta you know about my partners Mark Crowser
Y'all know nothin about Erick Ason
Y'all know nothin about Big Round Sink knahI'msayin?
O.G.'s they got much love, Marcus Raine

My nigga had bomb, we called him Big Dave
Six slugs in the chest, put my boy in the grave
I went to his house to get me a sack
His brother stood on the porch and told me the facts
Strange how it happened, he went out for a night
Strange car drove up, that's when the pistols went pop
Should I pull on the trigger and we bail on these niggas?
Should I roll up the indo, hit, throw up drunk off of liquor?
My memorials of my dead niggas on the wall
And when I die, I know I'm dyin with a bullet y'all
But the nigga that take me out, they better have the clout
Because my niggas gonna chop your bloody body route
You know this nigga ain't afraid to die
Just write my name on the wall: Gangsta S-P-I
C-E...R.I.P., rest in peace nigga

R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R.I.P., rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall