My Balls And My Word (Explicit)
Young Bleed Lyrics

Tyson D. Walker

on Ghostrider

Imagine riding in the dark with no heart, where bodies lay and trigger spray painted the arch, swing deadly from start as two departments that you dying to flex head and neck so protect your chest with a vest, as I confess deadly sins born again thru the hearts of murder men since the age of 10 trying to stay out the pen, and ain't no friends in the game they die young, where I'm from you get hung incarcerated while the rest lay num, till kingdom come from the ghetto I tell my story with bold nuts and glory from my pity purgatory, try not to worry get em off in a hurry back to my ride to the other side where my homies die and they momma cry give a f*** if you pitcher that's how it is, but I don't mean no harm any fool disagree me just wave your arm, enough said I mislead walking around half dead, broke and unfed tripping off the voices in my head hollering about

Ghost Rider tell me how you feel you really got the nuts to get your cap peel them n***** ain't that real, with murder skills to kill, ride for me i ride for you keep it real tho.

I pack a pistol when I ride having thoughts of suicide and homicide when my brain collide, let it ride on my positive side and keep flipping, I watch and I feel negative vibe from set trippin, haha see me laughing like a nickel plated n**** mad dog and all of y'all cuz I just don't give a f***, planet wrong with no regards for the law and get the bus annoying b**** like the last outlaw, fatal flaw. In a bottle of confusion n***** picture me losing, with my back against the wall with no conclusion, still refusing to death tho from friend to foe to the murder show out the liquor store playing at how it go cuz you never know, in everyday could be your last day smoking blunts flickin ashes in your ashtray with a pistol full of liquor when the light turns red still trippin off the voices in my head that's hollaring bout

Ghost Rider tell me how you feel you really got the nuts to get your cap peel them n***** ain't that real, with murder skills to kill, ride for me i ride for you keep it real tho.

I wonder why I live to see the killers cry mugging without a tear in my eye, but if I die I asked my father up in heaven Papa take me with you and forgive them all cuz they know not what they do, just set me free and let me flee with a smile like every ghetto born child, ever since a juvenile been known for living drunken and wild with a murderous style wonder now why they wanna murder me mama when it's these lame misconception got me lost in the jungle they say that Uncle beat on who ever f*** with so far, stay this whole life on some papers and put his name on the wall, rest in peace he goes a thug who roamed high school halls without a no meaning and fell a victim to a murder call, bag up thm bones and after they bury him life goes on stuck in a daze trying to figure out what's right from wrong singing the same song trying to balance close to the edge still trippin off these voices in my head