yo yo Bloody to shoes you splitzin ditzen and just another convict fleeing the streets like it's easy to the bone takeing the heats// You walk aroundwith a gun in yo hand drunk, suddenly taking some hits and landing in a trunk// you walk aroung crying like a little kid on prolax tryin some recriutin while those bitches up the street are still shootin// something remind you of being a mast shoota, going behind enemy lines and being a crazy intruder// you rob a bank for a cuzzin bussin dozen dollars and screem like a little girl srwewing up the pawlors// but there is no return becaise soon or latter people are going to say you a trader// there is no way this rb jersey man wit his bloody shoes is going to win, because with the shit on my side i will win taking the downslide of sin.//