Back from the dead, back from the dead
Back from the, back from the dead
Back from the dead, back from the dead
Back from the, back from the dead

Yeah, the baby blue coupe
Looks like baby food
My diamonds jumping out the
Gym since preschool you a typewriter
I'm the type to collect titles
Yeah, Versace gingivitis
Diamonds on my pacifier
I even as a youth crushed
Jewels upon my tooth
Throw the car seat out the roof
I hit the state troops
I finessed the Jaguar, I candy coated my car
I got Butterfinger interior
Intercept a miracle
Back from the dead, back from the dead
Back from the, back from the dead
Back from the dead, back from the dead
Back from the, back from the dead

If I had to take a L, take it on the chin
(mhm) lennox Lewis ting
(bling) , all I do is win (bling)
Seattle for my bling
(ice) , all you hear is 'shing' (wow)
Chicken wing swing when I'm
Dancing with my ting
You think you're scary? I'm dead already
My funeral was amazing, it was beautiful
(sex) doves flying
Brothers blazing in the cubicles (s'matter?)
Fakes crying, rest in peace
They're so delusional
But I know that's the usual
I'm back from the dead

Back from the dead, back from the dead
Back from the, back from the dead
Back from the dead, back from the dead
Back from the, back from the dead

Copyright: Songtrust Ave
Writer(s): RYAN HAYNES