fuk a caliber i spray him wit the gat, fake ass get clapped, man u like a stirofone cup, steped on once u crunched, im like a pepsi bottle lil bit of air i rush buk up, soon as i pull ma gun out ma holster, leave ya wit a bullet whom n the shivers gettin colder,grand master folder, fold u in half far enuf so u can kiss ya own ass n wun need ya fake ass crew to do it for ya, thinkin of ware to store ya, , u can die this second n none would even look for ya,

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HOLSTER