Luyện nghe bài hát Witching Hour

Ahem we are today to mourn the loss
Of a punk ass motherfucker who he was the shit.
Turns out he was the shit a of shit.
You see this hooligan wasn't afraid to die
So he put his life on the line to gain in his neighborhood.
Well the only respect he now
Is from the maggots and that are snacking on his dead ass.

x]
Life is over, death
Time has for witching hour

Time for your to dress up in black
Time for your coffin to in the back
Time for your to laugh at your death
Time for the to pick at what's left
Time for your homeboy to a new clique
Time for your girlfriend to suck a new
Time for your to fight over your car
for the world to forget who the fuck you are

(120 over 40 and fast, I can't get any vitals, I'm losing him, shit!)

your eyes, hold your breath, release the stress
let it out there's nothing left 'cause you're death
If you see God, my blessings if He's up there
And tell that man how you spent life here
Bust around the street, diesel smoke the heat
And you're feeling weak, 'cause the lead got you going to
It's deep, know your peeps? They gon' fuck your freak
In between the sheets in they face they the leaky leak
You hear the sirens, about who was firing
See your partner blurry from the of the iron
Holding on to faith, to survive to retaliate
Here comes the Reaper, it's Reaper at your door awaits
Can you feel it? Pumping on your spirit,
Got you out for Mommy Dearest
You to live, keep on twitching, bluff spitting
Time it's the hour for the witching

(Quit crying a bitch, and die like a man, motherfucker!)

x4]

Time for you to lay dead everybody stares
Time for the Reverend to like he cares
for your body to rot in your tomb
Time for your sister to get your room
Time for your to fade on the wall
Time for your to hang out at the mall
for your boys to beat hoes and kick bass
While you sit in the dark, with maggots crawling on face

(Put 50 cc's in that IV and start CPR, I'm still not getting anything)

Bitches are backstabbers, or your inner bank grabbers
Reaching out just to get
Thoughts of your soon-to-be wife and your phat
She's in the seat, catching it from the backside
You you had some rum, feeling numb
Where the at? Losing it, where my boys at?
Hallucinate seeing caskets, son a soon to be bastard
'cause you and got blasted
Your ?? lies in good times,
Ambulance 59 minutes later, now on a respirator
Get on shit, you're losing consciousness
Man flashing, in your phat crashing
family and it's costing black roses
Beer on the concrete, bones in your
all you get, a lost soul on the trip
Times up, clock ticked, hour to be

(Looking at my Gucci, it's about time, motherfucker)

x4]

Time to sit and cry about the fact you're gone
Time to say it, Nitro is on
Time for your people to clean out your
for you love to go through your tin case
Time for your father to a little stress
Time for you step-dad to give a fuck
for the world to keep spinning around
Even you dead in the ground, motherfucker!

Time for family to dress up in black
Time for your to ride in the back
for your enemies to laugh at your death
Time for the vultures to pick at left
Time for your homeboy to a new clique
Time for girlfriend to suck a new dick
Time for brothers to fight over your car
Time for the world to forget who the you are