Text:
Demon Some South Shit

your clap We all juveniles, we all been through some trials And some tribulations, I'm in this booth pacin' What do I say next should I talk about some

I just popped up eatin breakfast at some Wyatt's (Big Moe) Yeeeh-yeeeah, yeeeh yeeah yea yeeeah its them boys off that Long Drive that nigga DeMo (DeMo

need me If you look a little closer you can see The Shadow of a demon appearin I'm hearing the voices that tell me to do the evil shit that I do And you

and up coming with dope shit And pulling up in cool whips that's fly Still drink, still blow, then I creep through the hood real slow While I bump kamikaze shit

the booty call and I'm comin' ta bust nuts on all ya'll and I'm out half a blunt hangin' out my mouth speedin' like a demon on 101 south I smoke chewy

One fo' seven, the helicopter lights nearly blind me In the south east streets is were you might find me True bandanna, my scanner and my pager In the

government Official stubborn men with egos runnin' shit They put the hit out on whoever try to get out And they are the directors who are dead and [Unverified] Even down south

the shit hits the fan my plan is to stand as a man, my canvas is bland painted the perfect picture but my tears made the paint run; I need an eraser but shit

McFly even when I die big props to L.I. South Bronx Bedstuy Bacdaf*cup this ain't Onyx pave the way for Dr. Dre and his Chronic the Gravediggaz ebonically demonic