Take a look inside the darkness, journey with a insane first-degree murderer/The little nigga in this world so big and bold, the streets of C’ll make you fold in the cold/Off to the road of the wasteland/There we can vision jails and deviant little heads 'till forces of ghetto kill/One everyday it's the same old thang, tho’ i’m gettin up enough to flex/Show these haters, better roll to the next to test/In 95th and we live for the liquid stress/it do good on the cold winter mid-chest/Stackin Gs by ten, getting kinda hungry, back on the twin, 10-5/Destination, the trailer, grab the grub, nigga, sell and bail/Ain't been gone ten minutes and somebody done crossed the line, damn here comes the squadron
-Chorus-Tombstone-
Come around my way, if you wanna see cop stories/ Tales of the hood, way off in the woods of the wasteland/ Times of our survival
Sin
We breed in these streets, bring ‘em heat, pump pump/Police proceed to release empty shells/He yells, "Freeze!" It ain’t so easy bringing soldiers to they knees, instead we makin' niggas bleed/Called a pall-bearer to relieve me of the duty of fatal cop-killin/Embrace violence in total silence/Don't fault me for performin, participate in slaughters, coffin/Dancin' to the rhythm of the rain, draggin' coffins while I'm walkin' through the asylum of my brain. Institutionalized the drive to dis-computerize my mentality, programed for insane/Harass me about my dress code/Jumpin up out they car and they actually catch me, intrudin' all over my threshold/It's been estimated, that more coppers die, strangulate 'em/Just like a mis-education/Feelin' heavily sedated all the while, premeditated upon the outcome of my destination, congregate amongst killas/And it ain't no approximation, be facin' the nation on a one-way trip to total annihilation, obliterated
-Chorus-
Tombstone
Bustas with blue suits better run, duck, hide, because the slaughter death kill, Cleveland runnin', fuckin' up/Catchin these infiltrators, boots replaced your face with steel-toes/Grab the gauges and ammo, let's roll/We can stop down the way, pack some extra soldiers and liquids to roll with/Party on the way, to the niggas gotta be high in the sky to watch another nigga bite the dust/Disgusted in his eyes when he died/And yeah, I had a motive little nigga pulled the trigger, had me jumpin' in the bushes/ncase this fight's out of line/So, I came back at him with a TEC-9/Who gives a damn?/Cause he work forces/Bitch, don't go tie him to me, while niggas in the C be livin' for infantry, infantry, infantry
Sin
All this time alone in the coffins, never could find a way to phone back home/I lost my mind somewhere along the line of drug abuse and cheap wine/High, just sittin, chillin, waitin' to die/I guess I'll ride, just for the hell of the journey/Disturbing thoughts, they cloud my mind/We live so low/We goin' for broke in this dirty game filled with no dreams and lies/I see devils in disguise/I hope you croak and choke from the slug off in your throat/It's time they hang from ropes, ridin' boats/Locs upon my eyes so you won't see the tears when we reminisce on how you got killed/It's plain as day/You made that bed you lay/Ain't no more of them cotton fields, see now you stay six feet underneath so that put you deep inside that grave/Soon as that last trumpet sound, you well off on your way to Hell, where you won't be found. You won't be found/My sight's so blurred I can't even see in front of me/To keep my thought process, try to separate the night from the day/Can't escape my evil way/Put the gauge in a safer place, under lock and key, cause ain't no tellin' when I might be feelin' wanna run around inside of me/Hunt a nigga down surroundin' me/ Engulf my heart and die/You said my sanity, I just lost it. Them situations taught me how to pray/Now there you go/Gone to taunt my soul/You safe for now and you rolled with the worst of the killer/We so for-realer, with the stellar, and very quick to kill ya
Recorded for the Graveyard Shift album Still Waters (1997) Available on the Southwest Riders compilation album (2000)