Brotha Lynch Hung, Mia Bruce, T.M. Shades - Walkin' 2 My Funeral lyrics

Creeping in the dark with a nine and a four O
5 O 12 O clock so I creep slow duece fo
Homies know I just cant claim
So I stay neutral
Pack me some ammo and I'm
[?] mothafucking fo fo
Cant pack a piece too often
End up having another suckas guts hanging off
And a 187 R.A.P. A.S.A.P
Reeping off the fits doing
Time in the penitentary
And as I creep I peep mista locsta
With the gun outta his holsta
Thinking he supposed to point it at me
But now everybody loves a cop killa
So what I did is grabe my nine
But before I put the clip in
All I heard is pop pop pop what Im tripping
My body's licking blood I cant call it
One time murdering a young alcoholic
Im on the ground with a
40 spilled on my chest
Bullet holes and it supposed to
Work bullet proof vest
Caught slipping my niggaro's
You can burn that hearse cuz
Ima walk to my funeral

Can you feel
Can you feel it
You know what you got to do
Can you feel
Why don't you take
You know what you got to do
Can you feel
Why don't you take
Can you feel

I cant believe that I got
Shot I thought I ducked
I was just rolling my dice pressing my luck
Kicking it with them fellas drinking
40's on the block
Talking about what my dice will
Do when they drop
Then all of the sudden dam I think saw a gun
After I heard the bam that made everybody run
I'm trying to run but I
Ain't cuz I'm falling
My body's getting numb
I hear my mother calling
My heart stops but it don't
Feel like I'm dead
And now I'm seeing black
Puzzled and surprised
My worst start nightmare was now realitized
And I didn't even get me a chance
To say good bye to my mommy
Ambulance covering my body
Put me in the truck closed the door
Stuck a tag on my toe
And put me in a drawer case closed
Another innocent victim victimized
In the wrong place at the wrong time
My story was wrote the book read now
I might be laying here dead
But Ima walk to my funeral

Can you feel
I want to know why don't
You just listen to me
Why don't you listen to me
Can you feel

10 O clock at the set Lynch crept
Some nigga rolled up in a
Mob wanted a cigarette
Nuttining now I'm smoking on some indo
And on that note he stuck
A gage out the window
Break yourself for that dank and your cash
Foo try to take my grip and then mash
I'm like what, heh
I'm not going out foo I
Bust out my ol school
And swing my things real cool so what up
I'm not tripping off your gage what up
Ain't even packing you the brotha with
The gage at my gut
So bust he start loading me
Full of them shells
There wasn't no way I was
Dropping I'm bloody as hell
6 holes in my body and I'm trying to walk
Grave yard straight called me I'm
Living off a nerve shock
And on my tombstone 1996
And I got but I'm gonna strike to my funeral

Yeah in the mothafucking house my
Nigga Shades you know

Can you feel me

Thanks for acompaning me don't
This mothafucka ya know

Can you feel me

We gonna do some damage ya know
In the 96 ya know

Can you feel
Can you feel me
Can you feel me