Released: April 2, 2015
Songwriter: Scott Arceneaux Jr. Aristos Petrou
Producer: Budd Dwyer
[Verse 1: YUNG $NOW]
Counting sheep until I'm sound asleep
I'm lounging deep in a grave I found without a sound or peep
I lay in the ground, six feet
Slick as sleet, sneakin' a beat
Let the breath leak out my mouth
Bitch, I want your skull, fuck what's under your skirt
You broke my heart, and now I'ma, I'ma make you hurt
Stomp you on the curb, and then I'll throw you in the dirt
Give you back to the Earth
Girl, you were something special, yeah, you were my fucking first
You wanna cuddle?
We can cuddle in the back of the fucking hearse
(We can cuddle in the back of the fucking hearse)
[Verse 2: PONTIUS PILATE]
I don't need your sympathy, make them bitches sing for me
Caught up in reality, smokin' on some fantasy
Put the gun against my head, pull the trigger, now I'm dead
Bitches wanna count my bread, only let them give me head
Sleeping in a tulip bed, smokin' green and seeing red
Loading up the clip with lead, trigger finger soft as thread
No jewels and no chains, I like it that way
Don't know what I'm up to until that Glock in your face
I pop that bitch, and I spray
Got these hoes on delay
All it take is one word, they do whatever I say
(All it take is one word, they do whatever I say)
Counting sheep until I'm sound asleep
I'm lounging deep in a grave I found without a sound or peep
I lay in the ground, six feet
Slick as sleet, sneakin' a beat
Let the breath leak out my mouth
Bitch, I want your skull, fuck what's under your skirt
You broke my heart, and now I'ma, I'ma make you hurt
Stomp you on the curb, and then I'll throw you in the dirt
Give you back to the Earth
Girl, you were something special, yeah, you were my fucking first
You wanna cuddle?
We can cuddle in the back of the fucking hearse
(We can cuddle in the back of the fucking hearse)
[Verse 2: PONTIUS PILATE]
I don't need your sympathy, make them bitches sing for me
Caught up in reality, smokin' on some fantasy
Put the gun against my head, pull the trigger, now I'm dead
Bitches wanna count my bread, only let them give me head
Sleeping in a tulip bed, smokin' green and seeing red
Loading up the clip with lead, trigger finger soft as thread
No jewels and no chains, I like it that way
Don't know what I'm up to until that Glock in your face
I pop that bitch, and I spray
Got these hoes on delay
All it take is one word, they do whatever I say
(All it take is one word, they do whatever I say)
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