We shooting dead corpses over here my nigga...
Home invasion, the chrome is bangin. Ya whole house gon see this fo’ blow/
Ya whole family dying! No survivors...now ya funeral getting no showed/
It’s evil in Black thoughts. I’m known for wiggin, so why test thugs?/
50 rounds to ya scalp...a drumma be over The Roots like Questlove/
Run in ya crib squeezin! 30 in the clip - the glock steamin/
When the clip free it’s like a lip sync...I’m in the house with the Mop singing/
Ya concepts nice but ya wording trash. That’s why no one stressin you/
I’ll put the gun in ya mouth n let it shoot...that’s how you fucking ‘execute’/
You know my loyal friend line...I was wildin’, clown! But it’s twin glocks by you now/
They shitty friends...one’ll leave you out to dry - the other kickin at you while you down/
The .38 nice. You’ll see the ‘kick with the Special affect Kill’ like a fake fight/
The gun mute em...soon as you hear it clap it’ll fuck up ya speech - that’s stage freight/
When I cop the piece, it biggotry...I gotta judge by you skin...aim and then squeeze/
Then pistol whip ya bitch til her wig leak...black cracker like Clayton Bigsby/
Ay @
Sharp sign this nigga out