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Artist: The Game
Album:  Jesus Piece
Song:   Dead People *
Typed by: 

* iTunes bonus track

Graveyards in my pocket
Tombstones in my wallet
If you talkin 'bout my profit
All I see is dead people, all I see is dead people
You starve so when my momma
tryin to make a couple dollars
Any nigga with a problem
They be dyin over dead people, motherfuckin dead people

This shit gets deep, don't fuck with me
You'll end up six feet deep - listen to how I did it
I crept up slow on Willow
Thinkin 'bout climbin through the fuckin window
In the back seat, potato burners
Ski mask, body bag, duct tape, and a pillow
In the front solo, sittin low with the lights out
Feelin like Manson on some Son of Sam shit
With a murder on my mind and my mind on the homicide
And my watch said they out of time
Somebody gotta die, bottom line
Front page, column nine, headline "Another Columbine"
I plan and plot and strategized and thought about it
Loaded up e'rything in the closet
My objective is to get bloody
They can beg and plead, yell and scream
Try to leave, gettin cheese, pray to God on they knees
but I'm still gettin fuckin ugly
I fuckin love it~!
Took this nigga by his throat and fuckin cut it, and thought nothin of it

[Chorus: Game]
It's simple insanity - just a murderous fantasy
It's simple insanity - just another murderous fantasy of mine
(Now I feel like killin me a muh'fucker!)

Last night I musta had a blast choppin up bodies
Woke up bloody as fuck in the hospital lobby
Body fillin with adrenaline, not rememberin
what I did to get all this blood on my fuckin Timberlands
Cops sayin I did what to him? Showin me pictures of cut-up bitches
Disfigured members with body parts missin
Listen, I ain't do shit, I don't know shit
Man, I don't give a fuck about that bitch
Fuck whatever she said, fuck whatever she saw
It wasn't me; oh no no, not me - listen to the alibi
I was at the movies, that "Avatar" shit
With them 3-D glasses on
And that shit long than the muh'fucker
Look in my pocket, get the ticket stub
That's my alibi bitch, now what up?
Fresh out the cuffs now I'm back on the outside
And headed west where Homicide reside
That's my nigga, he live on 1st and 48th
Right next to the white chalk in between the yellow tape
Behind the black gate, Rottweilers and Pit Bulls
Surrounded by snakes, AK's and AR's
Some niggaz hard to play, some niggaz play hard
But that house right there, don't go in they yard


Beware of dark shit, shot him through the fence
Coach offensive linemen couldn't stop the blitz
Niggaz inside, couple kittens
And this right here, good riddance
Nigga fuck around it's suicide for instance
Picture the mind of a bullet {*blam*}
"Here I come, I can smell the flesh aimin for your head and neck
Nigga pray to God I won't hit your chest
Now here I come straight out a drum, headed for your lungs
You in my sight, the last one didn't do it right
And I'm waitin, just lookin at you
Thinkin 'bout it and gettin tired of lookin at you"
Hi daddy, remember me?
Goodbye daddy, this is what it gotta be
You brought me in this world, now I'm takin you out
Now you open up YOUR motherfuckin mouth!