Lyrics
Blaze Ya Dead Homie

1) Back From the Dead
2) Real G Shit
3) In Case U Forgot
4) I Go To Work
5) Put it Down
6) Shittalkaz (feat. Twiztid & ICP)

1) Back From the Dead
I remember it all...
Man there he go right there
What's up now muthafucka?
(Gunshots)
Now you's dead muthafucka
Hey Blaze
Blaze wake up
It's time to wake up Blaze
Your rest is over
It's time for you to open your eyes and wake up
It's a shame you were put to rest
We watched you
You were always our favorite
Always willing to work for the master with such little reward
Well since we took over things are gonna be a little different now
And even though 11 years is a long time
It's definitely not an eternity
Wake up Blaze
There's still work to be done
Blaze
Wake up...


2) Real G Shit
Who wanna fuck with the unfadable, dead man?
Body count deeper than a vietnam veteran
So whatcha lookin at?
So What I'm Dead Bitch?
Got The 20/40 Vision with a slight twitch
And I'll dump a whole clip in ya neck though
So when ya fuckin with a G show respect hoe
I keep tickin' like a Timex piece
This is my muthafuckin' hood, my muthafuckin' streets
Fuck police, in each and every state
All they do is fuck with us
And continue to incarcerate, all my folks
And everyone I roll with, but I ain't doing the time
I Aint The One Bitch
And all you haters can kiss my ass
My response to you hoes is a shotgun blast
My name is Blaze, and bitch I don't sleep
I bring terror to the hood, cause I'm back on the streets
Real G Shit


3) In Case U Forgot
911 emergency, please hold
I'd like to report something
Operator, she screamed so loud
I know that's terrible isn't it
God, I mean I never heard anything like that in my life before
Alright ma'am thank you

Psycho thug, maniac killa
Takin' more slugs than the average drug dealer
Born to peel a cap on a hoe ass bitch
Been a G since the first nigga I ain't switched
Still rock the Raiders (Whut?)
Still playin' the khaki's (Whut?)
Still got a beef for you hoes and it's shafty
Fuck the 5 0 you dead to one time
Thinkin' every dumb muthafucka do a crime
You don't know me or what I do
Take ya flashlight, and ya attitude (Nigga fuck you)
Stab you in the neck with a dayton spoke
Laughin' while ya cough up blood until ya choke
Bitch I'm from the old school, and the old time
Where G's all down to rock like a street sign
Throwin' up the East and strapped with 9 shots
Blaze back from the dead in case u forgot
Just in case u forgot about killas that really shoot
Car jackin' muthafuckas and murderin' for they loot
Throwing up the East and strapped with 9 shots
Blaze back from the dead in case u forgot
In case u forgot we tokin' herb smoke
Dirty gansta, no water, no soap
Yeah, that's my hoopty sittin' on the thang so
I keep it ghetto tinted windows, and the stereo
Dirty hoes be the ones I like to fuck (Hi Blaze)
Get your dirty ass in the ride, and hook a nigga up
Get the fuck on I got money to make
Hoes caps to peel, and bitches shit to take
8 ball in my face, bloodstains on my shirt
You can shoot me in the face, and that shit don't even hurt
No more blowing out ya 40 on a curb with sad base
Blaze dead alive, and back from outer space
Real G's put your hands up
Playa hatin' muthafuckas do me a favor, and shut the fuck up
Realize, check nuts, and act like ya know
Just in case u forgot I'ma remind you hoe
Just in case u forgot about killas that really shoot
Car jackin' muthafuckas and murderin' for they loot
Throwing up the East and strapped with 9 shots
Blaze back from the dead in case u forgot
In case u forgot real G's don't die
Always stay high, and got 4 or 5 alibi's
Doin' walk by's in house shoes
Leavin' dead muthafuckas floatin' in they swimming pools
Visualizing homocide, and emptyin' a clip
Young muthafucka with a fat ass grip
Got a glock on my side in case you muthafuckas try
To pop a muthafucka, but this killa don't die



4) I Go To Work
I'm the dead body creepin' through the streets on the East side
Took about 3 shots, victim of a homicide
Do a drive by in a second
Leave ya all bloody, and tattered lying on the pavement
Nothing can save ya, when I'm in a homicidal rage
Nut up, and then start unloading the 12 gauge
Sawed off pump in your ass bitch
Say your prayers bitch
Cause your headed to the casket
Then to the graveyard
A lil advice, never perpetrate and act hard
Cause when you are dead, muthafucka aint shit to lose
Still gettin my hustle on, and payin helly dues
Aint got shit to prove to you marks and you bustas
Always stay strapped cause you know I cant trust ya
Lights out, before I put ya in the dirt
It's ya dead homie Blaze, bitch I go to work

I go to work everyday
Baggin up yag
Clockin' major chedda loke
I'm all about my paper roll
I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
Doin hella drive bys just another homicide
I go to work everyday
Baggin up yag
Clockin' major chedda loke
I'm all about my paper roll
I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
Doin hella drive bys just another homicide

I go to work in my neighborhood
Puffin' on blunts, baggin up yag and always up to no good
Cause I'm a gansta, been to the grave and back
So stop on my corner, and get your fuckin' car jacked
Cause I don't play like my homies always say
We runnin' with a hatchet Psychopathic ay yay
Every day ya homie Blaze, is on the streets
Bouncin' downtown, brandishing heat
Until just the other day when I was walkin on my own
A sucka tried to hit me for my stack and my cell phone
Tried to play me G, till he got a peek of my pitch black eyes
Right before I shattered his teeth, and broke his jaw
Then watched him fall, lifeless
You should have seen his face it was priceless
Just another lesson hoe, with disgression hoe
Cause through the streets I lurk, I go to work

I go to work everyday
Baggin up yag
Clockin' major chedda loke
I'm all about my paper roll
I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
Doin hella drive bys just another homicide
I go to work everyday
Baggin up yag
Clockin' major chedda loke
I'm all about my paper roll
I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
Doin hella drive bys just another homicide

Now I'm rollin in the jacked up bucket
Bumpin' Twiztid, puffin herb like fuck it
Make a left on the one way, thats when the boys in blue
Got behing me with they lights and sirens
30 seconds of silence, then I unloaded the clip
Pumpin' on pigs wit the hollow point tips
So don't trip, I still gots to get my grip
Rollin down the street, leavin em bleedin' by the scene
Then a right, left then a right, to a chop shop
Sold the bucket and a rock
To a smoked out bitch in a '92 Ranger
That's the way it is in the life of a gangsta
Or a hustla, quick to dust ya
I could lose an arm, and still murder 40 of ya
Watch ya back when Blaze get his smirk on
You could be the next muthafucka I go to work on

I go to work everyday
Baggin up yag
Clockin' major chedda loke
I'm all about my paper roll
I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
Doin hella drive bys just another homicide
I go to work everyday
Baggin up yag
Clockin' major chedda loke
I'm all about my paper roll
I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
Doin hella drive bys just another homicide


5) Put it Down
What up y'all?
This Jed Thumpman
Let me tell y'all a little story
About a muthafucka that I know named Blaze
Now everytime we roll up a joint
Muthafuckas always be talkin' about Blaze Blaze Blaze
Man fuck Blaze
This muthafucka act like he puttin' it down for the hood
Talkin' bout everybody know Blaze, big baller
I don't give a fuck
Dead muthafucka don't get no special treatment from me
Look at Sarie's son little Eric
You know that muthafucka down to wear a wheelchair
I hate that muthafucka
And I don't show him no special treatment
So Blaze can kiss my ass

I put in work for my hood
So fuck a 9 to 5
You can find me on the corner
Hustlin' on the grind
They call me Mr. Lump Lump
So when their heads hear the thunder and the bump bump
They come out runnin' like the kids to the ice cream man
Children I'm sorry it's Blaze in the loony van
Playin' Atari, and I gotta do a crime to loot and 8 ball
Semi automatic with a clip for the law
All I wanna do is make money and smoke
Fuck hella bitches, and slang my dope
The law ain't good for a muthafuckin thang
But eatin' mad donuts, and gettin' all in the way
I been gone for more than a day, and some things changed
Some many died and some faded away
I represent the ghetto from Harlem to Pinewood
I ride for the hood, I put it down for the hood

I put it down for the hood
I ride for the hood
And all my muthafuckas is up to no good
Cause everybody in the hood is trying to come up
So gimme all of your money before you get your ass stuck
I put it down for the hood
I ride for the hood
And all my muthafuckas is up to no good
Cause everybody in the hood is trying to come up
So gimme all of your money before you get your ass stuck

I've been dead to the world for the last 11 years
My body's decomposing, I'm missin' part of my ear
Still gonna rock till the day I die again
Get up back from the dead, and ryde again
Walk again, talk thug shit, right
Empty mack clips, right
Keep it old school, wanna see that bitch? Uh huh
When it's thugs in King's coats and Raider's caps
Killers, jerry curls, and baseball bats
Ready to die like everyday
I put it down like a muthafucka, everyday
I drink brew and smoke weed like, everyday
And we all trying to get paid but anyway
Killas don't talk, but this one do
Talk you out your wallet let the 45 blast you
Twice in the chest, once in the face
Plus the extra heater on the safe side in case
Your bitch is wack well she can catch one too
Cause if you're down with your hood
Then your hood down with you

I put it down for the hood
I ride for the hood
And all my muthafuckas is up to no good
Cause everybody in the hood is trying to come up
So gimme all of your money before you get your ass stuck
I put it down for the hood
I ride for the hood
And all my muthafuckas is up to no good
Cause everybody in the hood is trying to come up
So gimme all of your money before you get your ass stuck

Psychopathic just like thugs
We ball, and we fight
And just like the freaks I come out every night
Holdin' down the sidewalk
Standin' amongst muthafuckas that's soon to be outlined in chalk
Sippin' on a cold ass 40 of OE
Live from the DET we OG
Pissy drunk always, we dead bumpin'
Stay thug with the throw away in the trunk
Bitch slapper, fuck a bitch rapper
Bitches were made for fuckin' but that's another chapter
Bitch you don't know me, don't approach me
Thinkin' that you're down with Blaze ya dead homie
G Blood imbedded in street blocks
That's why I put it down, and blast with many shots
Bullet holes in my chest, it's all good
Man I even died for my hood, muthafucka

I put it down for the hood
I ride for the hood
And all my muthafuckas is up to no good
Cause everybody in the hood is trying to come up
So gimme all of your money before you get your ass stuck
I put it down for the hood
I ride for the hood
And all my muthafuckas is up to no good
Cause everybody in the hood is trying to come up
So gimme all of your money before you get your ass stuck


6) Shittalkaz (feat. Twiztid & ICP)
Yo this is serious shit right here
Me and my boys, we don't fuck around
You know what I'm sayin'?
So if you diss me
My muthafuckin' people, or the niggas I roll with
You know what?
Y'all done fucked up
Here go the shittalkin'

You's a bitch ass hoe
What you really know about killas for real though?
Stainin' my freek show, gang of lunatics
We the rebels for the dead
Fuckin' with us you lose your muthafuckin' head
And ya talkin' to your bitch ass hoes even a little
Rather beat ya to shit, and pull the plug at the hospital
Callin' me this, callin' me that
Cause you's a bitch ass nigga from the jump I wanna slap
With the old school beat down, 10 on 1
I don't remember no fair fights where I'm from
Maniac and I'ma stand right where the bloodstain is at
Hopin' you come back, nigga fuck that
I'm the poster child of death
I'ma keep swingin' my axe till nuthin's left
I ain't havin' that so fuck you bitch
Tell your friends I'ma hater and I'm talkin' shit

Man I don't give a fuck how many records you sell
Stories you tell, nigga check yourself
And fuck that bitch that you're with too
When the shit go down, where the fuck your crew?
Probably at home bumpin' someone else
When the shit went down they told you fuck yourself
Now you cryin' inside little thug still frontin'
Thinkin' to yourself why the fuck you say something
Too many niggas wanna beat me up
Steal my shit, slap my bitch
I'm like fuck this
Now you know what it's like
To deal with real killas that don't play, everyday
Knockin' suckas out the box, who wanna get some?
Seven video channels for my victims
I ain't havin' that fuck you bitch
Tell your friends I'ma hater and I'm talkin' shit

We the things that go bump in the night
We ain't got no love for you, you need to get some shit right
Bitch who you think you're fuckin' with?
We keep this shit like a track meet, we be runnin' it
With the hatchet on the back
While other bitches suckin' sour tits for air time and similac
We say fuck that, matter of fact
You tainted our style bitch boy we want our shit back
Don't get your head cracked you ain't tough
And all them skills don't mean shit when you get fucked up
So fuck your set, and fuck your crew
And fuck every muthafucka around and down with you
And you ain't puttin' nothin on the map
Except for all this bullshit commercialized mainstream rap
And I ain't havin' that fuck you bitch
Tell your friends I'ma hater and I'm talkin' shit

Hoe ass hoes, we stomp those hoes
How the fuck you gonna step to Dark Carnival juggalos?
Creators of the wicked, night breeders
No little bitch faggots with blonde
So anytime you see me in public
You get a Faygo in your ass, and your jaws full of dick
You can keep your muthafuckin' TRL
I stay with my army in the underground and stay real
And burn down your little TV set
String Carson up with razor wire wrapped around his neck
Cause that's how we do all day
Cross to the other side bitch you're gonna pay
We stay on the dark side of the carnival grounds
Twiztid, Blaze, and 2 wicked clowns
Heads are finna get chopped off, and slit
Bout to take it way beyond talkin' shit

Hatchet don't count, hatchet ain't included
Knowin' goddamn well we the champs undisputed
We don't need your radios and MTV
Sellin' million, sayin' what the fuck we please
**** who's coat you ridin' on?
You gotta lick balls, and write him a song
You got his dick buried so far up your ass
It's hangin' out your mouth, but you like that
And **** tried to warn ya
And there you are receiving the dick in California
While you gettin' fucked on the West coast
I'm at home fuckin' Kim ****
Fuck all you faggot ass sell out hoes
And fuck anybody denying the juggalos
Come to the underground and get bit
Tell your boys I'ma hater and I'm talkin' helly shit!
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