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Artist: Armani of York
Album:  Child With a Gun
Song:   Fade to Black
Typed by: Vinyl and Gold Records

Verse One:

I'm bendin' beats like this plastic
I'm one of the smartest, Mr. Fanstastic
Regardless of the fact you ass and lame backwards
Runnin' for the cash your game is out of fashion
You Atari in this bitch
I'm probably getting' rich from these downtown shipments
In the back countin' cash cuz this cash is my  business
Praise to Amun-Ra my witness
Until I go down to meet Osiris
And I'm still countin' names on my hitlist
Pop 'em one at a time like bitches
My sheet and my pillow game vicious
Light that pussy up dawg like Christmas
The kiss of death is best taken with the swishas
New age comin' so it's death to the fish
End of the world so you best make a wish


Fade to Black? No chance countin' paper stacks
I'm boss, spittin' major raps
You lost in the struggle so you'll fade to black
Fade to black

Verse Two:	

And I will assassinate the dead presidents
Cuz this passion, fate, and intelligence
Is a combination that can't be stopped
Obamanating up and down the block
You probably hatin' but you lost in thoughts
Confused by the rules the sum of what life can cost
I'm free like a summer ride, ride in a Porsche
Smokin' weed, get high, don't give a fuck what it cost me
Like too short, damn I'm looking flossy
Got my own music group like Rick Rossy
We partyin', everybody getting' saucy
At the game we chillin' with the floor seats
No sleepin' cuz we always workin'
Holdin' T Dot high that's for certain
When the lights down streets is disturbin'
You wanna fight, fight, so we creep in a 'burban

Verse Three:

Thumpers on us, but we ain't no rabbits
And we're all walking round getting' cabbage
We livin' life so we gotta do it lavish
Your rhymes are weak dawg, you too dramatic
No one will select you like Statik
Never had a girl, never learned black magic
Fire in my eyes like Mr. Gadget
No need for disguises, these lines is tragic
Like your game or the life that remains
We can't all live and can't bike in the rain
So we snatchin' your gold chains, ain't nothin' changed
Wearin' gas masks like Chinese dames
I get the fast cash, Ras Kass, diamond rings
Verse almost over, time to sing
Hop in the Rover, poppin' things
You can chill with the laymens, don't talk to kings