Yo, You aint a killa you aint real~you aint gettin that scrilla or clappin that steel
you tryna conceal the fear that you feel~I let the banger reveal and eat yo face like a meal
I put the war to the lord~I keep it raw to the core
stomp out yo jaw on the floor~have you sippen yo food through a straw
have you spend the next few months in the comfort of yo bed~til I come up to yo crib and confront you with the lead
let off six shots to the front of yo head~then let off six more to confirm that you dead
the ratchets i pack it, by the elastic in my jacket, shit get drastic I blast it~fuck intensive care send you straight to yo casket
I stay with my gun tucked, beef come I straight buck~aim for yo head, fuck luck the red dot'll leave yo brain plucked
I know ya'll pray for my defeat, so I keep my holdsters wit the heat~my toasters are elite, get hit it feel like boulders thats what beat~you from yo shoulders to yo feet, leave you slumped inside the roadster in the seat~wit yo picture on missin posters in the street
it dont take much to get yo life took~put yo ear to the street my name alone'll have you all shook~I got the mentality of a true crook~it comes from years of playin the corner like a chess rook
years spent on the block I keep the essence of a rider~I let off wit the tec and transform yo fitted cap into a visor
let the slugs rest in yo dome and make yo head a little wider~and give off the scent of gun powder when you perspire........................


Holla BacK
FeeDBacK PlZ