Plead for Your Life

[Verse 3: Bolly]
On my normal schedule, I got filters in the ashtray
I will never settle for a little I need mad weight
Holding up stiletto to the temple of a businessman
Gimmie mo' dough or fo'fo' leave you dancing like ballet
Bad days are often in my week
Stressed, nigga. I'm talking in my sleep
Chiefing so much now that I'm coughing out my teeth
On my grind 24/7, add the 3...
65. Spitting sickly rhymes
You sycophants can fucking suck a size 8-inch dick
Followed by suicide, I'm in a suit and tie
Yet still speaking in ebonics and reeking of chronic
And chronically blind to the consequences
Cyanide smokin carbon and I know gotta quit
But my conscience is killing me with uncommon sense
I pray I make it up outta this but for now I'm astounding, bitch
Constant acts of violence
I've been though so much shit, it just turns me to a tyrant
Eyeing on a full clip, predicted by the Mayans
Lions, tigers, bears, oh my! You ain't surviving this alive and Bolly!