Happy Halloween lyrics

[Intro]
(FourtyEight hours a day)
Ayy, say they want that old Four, for what though? (Drvmlord)
That's a crazy low down dirty cut throat

[Verse]
Uh, gun smoke mixed up with blunt smoke (Yeah)
Scarface had to go, Alejandro (Yeah)
Scarred face, tats on his throat, that's just how you know
Bullets hit me, but I stand ten toes, that's just how it go
n*gga, load the 50, keep the score and pay attention to the road
Soon as he come out his front door, let off that mother load
n*ggas saying somethin' to Big Backdoor, he must be f*ckin' bold
This n*gga said he wasn't gon' kick that door and then he f*ckin' told
You in the comments, you think I'm gettin' trolled
Ayy, watch out for patrol, winked at baby bro, he scored
I put the plays together, call me Big Backdoor the coach
She got a Birkin pursе, I upgrade that ho from Coach
She on a private jеt, I upgrade that ho from coach
They study, wanna be Backdoor C4, they takin' notes
You ugly, just start gettin' hoes, never f*cked her before
Mr. Four, I up and blow
Switch my zip and area code
Yeah, crocodile among the sheep, I creep, I keep it low (Yeah)
Some of these nights I can't even sleep, I swear, I miss my bro
I was just dancin' with the devil I stepped on his toes
And then cancer killed my cousin, grab the shovel, dig a hole
Grab your coat, it's gettin' cold, you gon' freeze, n*gga?
b*tch, I probably came with you, but I ain't gon' leave with you Never leave my brothers 1087, Slime Shady, n*gga
Keep a Glock in reach n*gga, that's a Georgia peach, n*gga
Uh, uh, I backdoored these big houses, I don't sneak in 'em
Tom Ford shirts just to go grim reap in 'em
Uh, this is Mike Amiri, not no cheap denim
b*tch, I don't want no steak, give me chicken tenders and give lil' Four chicken tenders
b*tch, we grew up chicken dinners
Run sh*t like Mr. Skinner
Can't wait to Mr. Burns a n*gga
Yeah, all you gotta do is be patient, wait your turn, n*gga (Keep workin')
Go out, kill what you eat
Rule number one, don't ever let these n*ggas play you weak
Rule number two, b*tch better listen way more than you speak
Rule number three, can't trust a b*tch, that pus*y make you weak
Rule number five, try and stay alive and make it out the street
I forgot rule number four, don't ever f*ck with me
Ayy, you must think I ain't have my pole, I tucked it in my jeans
Rubber gloves and Sketchers on a mission, bet I make it clean
Spark plug, bust a window, then get in it (Go up the street)
Ever seen a bullet tear through flesh or through a piece of meat?
Ayy, that's my way to wish you happy Halloween