Listen up gangstas and honeys with ya hair done
Pull up a chair hon' and put it in the air son
Dog, whatever they call you, god, just listen
I spit a story backwards, it starts at the ending
The bullet goes back in the gun
The bullet hole's closin this chest of a nigga
Now he back to square one
Screamin, "Shoot don't please"
I put my fifth back on my hip
It's like a VCR rewindin a hit
He put his hands back on his bitch
My caravan doors open up
I jumped back in the van and closed it shut
Goin reverse, slowly prepared
My nigga Jungle utters out somethin crazy like, "Go he there"
Sittin in back of this chair, we hittin the roach
The smoke goes back in the blunt, the blunt gets bigger in growth
Jungle unrolls it, put his weed back in the jar
The blunt turns back into a cigar
We listen to Stevie, it sounded like heavy metal fans
Spinnin records backwards of AC/DC
young
whole
whatever
lotta
growth
leave
jungle
there
holdin
starts
hittin
gucci
fully
walkin
begun
spinnin
gotta
figure
found
caravan
records
ending
closed
prepared
shirt
voice
three
glass
crazy
cigar
listen
juice
clear
picked
bobbed
black
about
message
metal
heard
jumped
backwards
heavy
enemies
chest
stevie
bullet
chair
fifth
phone
doors
clothes
hands
square
utters
block
vodka
behind
bullets
clock
squeeze
mouth
nigga
thinkin
niggas
outside
plenty
twice
bigger
reverse
shoot
right
roach
sounded
screamin
sittin
really
smoke
blunt
somethin
bitch
started
first
pretty
story
stressed
suckin
talkin
thing
dressed
through
honeys
turns
peace
please
upstairs
slowly
voicemail
vomited
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