Play Dead
    (专辑: Judgement Day - 1992)
    
    Well I 
was sleeping dreaming about my own death  I'm like a 
cat with nine lives, but none left  I 
hear word after word after word once again  I 
find myself praying on my knees saying Amen  Cold sweat falls off my head onto my pillow  At night in my sleep I 
weep just like a 
willow  I'm suffering I 
need some aspirin or some buffering  Everytime I 
close my eyes it gets rougher in  The 
rhythm cold smothering every sister and brother in  Another murder, but red rum I 
never heard of  Something when I'm thinking of drinking  Some red rum 13 ways causing bedlam  Don't say I'm a 
problem you'll die if you follow me  I'm like poison so come and swallow me  Locked in your mind, a 
funky rhyme and I 
busted  But when I 
start dropping wicked shit you can't trust it  Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde riding inside your mind  It's hard to see the 
U-N-H-O-L-Y when you're blind  Some say I'm the 
devil, but it's really all in your head  And they say when I 
play I 
roll over and play dead  A 
funky, funky rhyme is what I 
got  A 
sellout is what I'm not  Booming words from hell is hot, dissing me will get you shot  Esham affiliate of Reel Life Production  All the 
suckers dissing me, fuck 'em  'Cause my homicidal vital recital is still said  And when I 
wake the 
dead the I 
play dead  And I'm not dead and then I 
knock 'em out  'Cause dissing me on a 
record ain't what it's all about  Motherfuckers wanna come up and then they dumb up  So get to the 
gat and put the 
fucking drum up  Nigga how you figure you was bigger than a 
giant  Trying to diss the 
undissable so keep trying  Pick a 
pack a 
mags so get fitted for your bodybag  You wanna do it like me? Let your words drag  You're bound to catch 17 in the 
head  So you better fake death or play dead  You put the 
mic in the 
wrong hands then you get me  A 
nigga that's hooked on A-C-I-D  I 
can't go to sleep at night, I 
get hyped  See you wanna dance with the 
devil in the 
holy light  Wouldn't give a 
fuck if my records didn't sell  'Cause I'm going to hell with Pattie Labelle  Florence Nightingale, sipping on ale  The 
devil's in the 
soup as the 
witches swap tails  Can't save my soul as I 
was told  Dropped outta school at 16 years old  The 
mic is in my hand, the 
bitch is on my tip  Niggaz wanna know am I a 
blood or a 
crypt  Don't push me 'cause I'm close to the 
edge  Playing Russian Roulette with a 
gun to my head  Snub nose grade me one peace a 
lead  So if I 
win I 
guess I 
can't play dead