Rats Maze

[Intro] If it's one thing I hate in this world, homie, it's rats Can't stop, won't stop, damn [Verse 1: Slaine] Up in front the dollar store stood the whore She's up to no good before Walk into your crib high heels hitting the wooden floor Sky across her abdomen, brown eyes shitty face Cold so cold amongst the projects , city scapes A fat man is fucking her his pop belly hangs He wheezes when he breathes Jesus she got fangs She's stranger than a stranger, she's dangerous She played Atari while old man smoked angel dust Back as kids hanging on the bench of cracking bearing Her boyfriend so crack he's back to rack and tearing She dropped out in the 10th grade but the sack a smack And after that got kicked around like a hackey sack Shit is a cold world for a girl She never had a conscious she only had abortions Beggars can't be choosers You eat shit in rationed portions This is a story about a bitch back in Boston [Hook] If it's one thing I hate in this world, homie, it's rats Can't stop, won't stop, damn Boston's a good place to meet bad people I can't even explain that The dangerous, the ruggedness Depressin', Pathetic Can't stop, won't stop, damn Boston's a good place to meet bad people [Verse 2: Newz] Little man's broke, plus his mom struggle with cold pops An OG that ODed last screams made his veins freeze On the southern smoked over chilling in his shoulder Screwing in his lap he cooked his smack , gave us all a slap From the greatest crap he died from a fatal zap Besides that, his nesses is smoking rest Far from blast , rising questions For the one's who'll die next Starring at the pie racks Up in the projects watching his mom scrip the lighter The pipe even tighter, she took a toke Filled her lungs with smoke Held until she chocked, and blew a cloud from her throat and spoke Like this is the cope reason to cope and pour a C note I purchase 5 20's with the money rip the plastic bag Placed a rock on the glass, and yelled the second glass is strong Drag the churk and rob the ash Cough like an old hag like little man paces the bad Praying for paces with the paces in Boston, Mass [Hook] If it's one thing I hate in this world, homie, it's rats Can't stop, won't stop, damn Boston's a good place to meet bad people I can't even explain that The dangerous, the ruggedness Depressin', Pathetic Can't stop, won't stop, damn Boston's a good place to meet bad people [Verse 3: Lecks Get It On] Ayo, purp smoke blowing in her hair now she going hard Door knockers on the air swimming slobbin oggs Live on her knees but worship ain't the purpose She giving hat service, slurping niggas for purses Open the closed curtains, she fucking everyday y'all Clubbing every night different players on the radar Smuther around the way y'all day long no stopping Mels in and out the box she the post office No dark physiques bitch pop and burnin Fry a nigga wig Malcom X with his permin Vermin, all in the apartment squirming Dirty laundry, pow dishes no detergent Words she done play a few, snooze and she 'll take your dough Canari type for a wife can't mistake the hoe Got a couple nigga hit, round she don't give a shit Nothing new same old script just a different beat [Hook] If it's one thing I hate in this world, homie, it's rats Can't stop, won't stop, damn Boston's a good place to meet bad people I can't even explain that The dangerous, the ruggedness Depressin', Pathetic Can't stop, won't stop, damn Boston's a good place to meet bad people