fuck 'blangas fo life', imma rap as a ghost,
spittin shit and talkin bout guns as i boast,
still bein these fag and haterz i roast,
bitches fuck around and end up burnt like toast,
i'm still gonna be freestylin after my death,
i'm gonna say 'fuck killah mc!' with my last fuckin breath,
u fags tryin 2 rap like limp bizkit with red and meth,
spittin with style mo evil than seth,
so if u hear beats bumpin in ur house 100 years frum now thats me,
if u hear sum1 spittin flows at night in ur basement, who eles could it be,
i'll be known as tha illest rhymer there ever wuz that u can't see,
i'll be tha 1 whos invisible 2 tha eye but u can smell me when i smoke weed,
yea tha blangas be spittin rhymes long after we're dead,
exspencesive, west side and nafareus a.k.a. Ted,
we be that one's who make yea face blood red,
so take heed 2 every fuckin word i ever said,
how many other crews u know,
that could have they heads chopped of and still drop a flow?
we be tha spectral bandits who rob yea liquor sto,
i thought this just sum shit i though u should know,
death is just a bump in tha road 2 us,
droppin lines after i'm gone is a must,
my lyrical note book will neva collect dust,
and my fo-five will neva collect rust,

can i get sum fuckin replys pleeeease, i dont think anybody is takin us seriously, but we serious as a heart attack!!!!!!

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