Surell

Pills don't touch my lips unless they mass in double digits
I keep chrome on me with the Hubble equipped
Never miss, ether blissed, tickled by bloody mist
Playin with your girls toes, she tells me i'm a great host
I fell four stories from the ventilation at Maury's
Lean and pinesol in the cup, purple trees like children's stories
You still owe me thirty or forty
But I ain't trippin, you got it bad son
In the bag just a stained shirt and an empty handgun
They took your bullets as punishment for that ass whoopin
Talkin loud, swingin it around, like the dick you want for

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