Stressful situations,
It’s tough times we live in,
Alcohol combats my stress,
Pour me another glass,
While I spill this pain off my chest,
Let me reflect,
We were taking shots to the head,
Taking shots to the head,
When the shots rang out,
He let it get to his head,
Now everybody running and screaming,
A nigga lying and bleeding,
Call 9-11,
Who the fuck had a gun?
Everybody cleared out,
The culprit on the run,
But there’s a nigga on the floor with a Bullet in his lung,
His friends try to stop the bleeding,
But the reaper steady creepin,
Man I wonder what that nigga thinking?
Why it gotta be me?
Why it gotta be me?
What the fuck did did I say?
To make him get mad at me?
Damn this ain’t good,
It’s getting hard to see…
Maybe things will be fine,
If I just go to sleep…
If I just go to sleep…
Everything will be fine if I just go to sleep…
Hot damn there goes another one,
May he rest in peace…