I Died on the Dusse Video (MV)

Yeah

Baby I'm a slave to the Mary Jane
I can't stop (Can't stop, can't stop)
Phone ring, plug callin' for the pay
I don't got (Don't got, don't got)

Last week I was ballin'
Now I'm diggin' in the ashtray
Money comin' slow, still I spend the shit the fast way
Back in high school I was the man, now a man high (Man high)
Sellin' baggies out the crib just to get by
Pay me for a feature dog, a nigga got a weed bill
Head spinnin' I ain't f*ckin' with no advil
Heart heavy, in my chest I got an anvil
Addiction in my family, I pray I don't succumb
Niggas hit the bottle til' they're suckin' on they thumb
Smokin' back to back until this shit just isn't fun
My niggas used to ball with me and now they're toting guns
Why's that? Quarterbacks, now they're back to the trap shit
Ain't no hope in the streets baby
I ain't preachin' shit, I guess I'm tryna' teach, maybe
I bet that I'll be famous in heaven
Bet the angels on my block tote gold mac elevens
And Mom and Dad ain't Mom and Dad no more
Take it like it's grown folk being grown folk
Sis' got a problem, I'ma leave it at that
Brother is on the ropes, I just wanna' give back
If you measure pain with empty bottles
You might comprehend the sorrow
I'm cold there's no home and no one to phone right now
Vivid pictures see the texture in my tone
I ain't have no more to give, forgive me if I'm monotone
I said I ain't have no more to give, forgive me if I'm monotone

Baby I'm a slave to the Mary Jane
I can't stop (Can't stop, can't stop)
Phone ring, plug callin' for the pay
I don't got (Don't got, don't got)
I don't got (Don't got, don't got)
I don't got (Don't got, don't got)
I don't got (Don't got, don't got)

Wallet full of maxed out credit cards, listen God, I done hit an all time low