[Jabari Black]

This rifle tucked in the pants like a dress shirt - so let ya men rush/
Soon as they see the arm, they get folded under the blazer like a French cuff/
You the clown type! My crew’ll be camped outside ya crib lettin rounds fly/
Shootin off the tripods...it wave from the stands like the crowd hype/
You denied Dregs’ extension for ya last win...You think that slick shit fine?/
Well i got a beam and a ladder on a big 9...the Inf gon’ have the extension this time/
My shooters made a career of killing. For a couple Gs they’ll have the thing sparkin/
Ex-military cats...I’ll have patriots dumpin the barrel in ya waves like the Boston Tea Party/
Chest shot! I’ll have his heart rate skippin when this 9 go hit em/
The way it clap make the beat sound wrong...it got white boy rhythm/
It was ‘No Smoke’....but he was ‘Alarmed’ when he opened his front door and I appeared/
I ‘enter calm’ wit it ringing- lighting queers. Even line up the kids in the building like a fire drill/
The 30 hanging outta the 9...see what this extendo bout/
It bend back- and put him under the pole...his life in limbo now/
That first shot leave ya smokin, bro. I’ll finish the job when I approach you, hoe/
Then stand over ya wit the fourty-four...n let the nose extend while he lyin like Pinocchio/