Bring the heat to his gut, once it touch his stomach fat I'm burstin' shells
Y'all gon' be seein' In's center raided, then watch this faggot Burn in Hell
You bangin' sluts? All them claims are just doubtful
Women talkin' bout Incisor just jokin', you've never gave 'em a mouthful
They'll need a closed casket for ya funeral based on what the morgue might see
So your mom'll only be lowerin' the rose if it were court-side seats
Folks on Netcees are already talkin' bout how Prozac murked 'em
So you should be worried bout ya Nextel... but it ain't ya phone's bad service
Ya live in a nice estate, shit I bet ya neighbors with three feds
Do this for acceptance 'til I getcha curbstomped, now ya got a taste of the street, cred
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