Barrow A Toast

Slip in the kirk

Spit a prayer and hope you don't get murked

Slipping a fist to the phonies' tryna fire back and I ain tryna get their word

Pause this fucking tape and let the filters pass through the soul

I'm the type of mother fucker to slip a foot in their ass till their feces corrade

And I let these letters knows

Cruz and the other gaggle of dawgs set in the row

I'm all gone in the mind today but the hoes will know

I'm sorry Tris and Mace my betrayed ways outta my arm space and gone on the low

Osum the reason I'm rapping today, making this album with the homies I roll with

I don't smoke, but I smoke with

I don't sling dope, but I'd sling dope with

Load the .45 colt, pull on him and I'd bolt

Cold in this place causes the sore throat

let's build this boat, sail in the seas look for dolphins n' sea life to provoke

If I'm dead they'd know the door code, set my body afloat

Make all the women soak, the top 5 the goat

But today I'm gone so let's all raise a toast