aight, check it.....

while I’m up on the corner blastin’-a- john- gotti- tag
think a ways to get your ass- out- the- body- bag
cuz you already dead, son - ain’t no use-in- risin
ya made the right decision to go with euthanisin’
I’m up in this piece - and you trail-like-blazers
but I’m diggin’ up ya grave like a bunch a’ hell-raisers
and I’m givin’ you a chance to whip-out-ya-glock
let ya trip-on-mah-cock while I skip-round-tha-block
before ya- try-and-go to pistol-whip-me
or let-me-know-first which fist’ll-hit-me
sit back-and-behave or your headed back-to-tha-grave
(I ain’t gon’ spit how you’re black-and-a-slave)
I’m flat boutin’-your-ways and I’m chewin’-you-out-kid
I dug ya out-ya-grave - what- you-gon’-do-about-it???