The Game - Dead People lyrics

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
Tryna make a couple dollars
Any nigga with a problem
They be dyin' over dead people
Muthafuckin' dead people

This shit gets deep
Don't fuck with me
You 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 backseat, 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 Sonny Sam shit
With a murder on my mind that
My mind on the homicide
And my watch said they outta 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 everything in the closet
My objective is to get bloody
They can beg and plead, yell and scream
Try to leave, get in cheese, pray
To God on they knees
But I'm still gettin' fucking ugly
I fuckin' love it
Took this nigga by his throat and fuckin'
Cut it and thought nothin' of it
It's simple insanity
Just a murderous fantasy
It's simple insanity
Just a murderous fantasy of mine
(Man, I feel like killin me a mother fucka.)

Last night
I must've had a blast choppin up bodies
Woke up bloody as fuck in the hospital lobby
Body filled with adrenaline
Not rememberin what I did to get all
This blood on my fuckin' Timberlands
Cop's 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 longer than mother fucka
Look at my pocket, get the tickets though
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
Rottwielers and pitbulls, surrounded
By snakes
AK's and AR's
Some niggas hard to play
Some niggas play hard
But that house right there
Don't go in they yard
It's simple insanity
Just a murderous fantasy
It's simple insanity
Just a murderous fantasy of mine
(Man, I feel like killin me a mother fucka.)

Beware of dark shit.
Shot 'em through the fence
Tough offensive line men couldn't
Stop the blitz
Them niggas inside, a couple kittens
And this right here, good riddance
Nigga fuck around, it's suicide for instance
Picture the mind of a bullet
Here I come I can smell the flesh
Aimin' for your head or neck
Nigga, pray to God I won't hit your chest
Now here I come straight outta 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 about 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 muthafuckin mouth
Simple insanity
Just a murderous fantasy
Simple insanity
Just a murderous fantasy of mine
(Now I feel like killin me a mother fucka.)