Potato on the desi...keep the D silent then I’m Django with the toolie/
The ‘clip dropping n-bombs’ quicker than a Tarantino movie/
.38 wit a nickel plate - he’ll be begging for his life when i brandish it/
Barrel to his face...I put the ‘nickel in Bombz mug’ like he panhandling/
Twin glocks’ll send this man scramblin. He don’t want beef when the led spit/
If you try to run, it’ll be two arms behind ya head like ya girl told ya she pregnant/
It can get cruel. Get Burned alive....put the fire to Bombz like a lit fuse/
Even ya chick’s screwed. Now it’s like Hush...cus I ‘fuck around’ n burn ya bitch too/
Im at ya family reunion wit a big tool. If I see ya granny, she’ll get her mug clapped/
Now the coroner’s putting ‘grams in a bag’ like a dub sack/
You and Body Snatcher a team, huh? Well cool, he’ll die next/
I let the deuce pop n two shot’ll leave Bombz on Body like a suicide vest/
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