|
Turn me up in them ****in' headphones |
|
Real quick, man, |
|
I'm feelin' to body this track |
|
And body a nigga when |
|
I get the **** outta here, man |
|
Cocksucker, this ain't rap, check my rap sheets |
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I feed you to the rats with peanut butter on yo' feet44 bulldog, get money hustle hard |
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So the feds want my face on that damn number card |
|
I drag you in your elevator, hit the stop button |
|
So when I pop somethin', they can't fingerprint nothin' |
|
I hope you wit'cho bitch, |
|
I'm lovin' your dame |
|
Shoot her ass and her heart, hit her jugular vein |
|
Niggaz talk it, they don't live it, these niggaz is butt |
|
Go through they projects and they jewels is tucked |
|
I'm in apartment 4 |
|
B, wipin' down the llama |
|
With two freaks kissin' like, |
|
Britney and |
|
MadonnaAnd you know how |
|
I ride when the beef is on |
|
Pull up, la la like |
|
Jamaican songs |
|
It's a nine, it's a nine |
|
There's a clip in the nine, bullet in the clip |
|
Bullet in the chamber round on the ground |
|
And that's why homicide all around |
|
There's a hole, there's a hole |
|
There's a hole in his head, hole in his leg |
|
Hole in his pants, holes everywhere |
|
And that's why homicide all around |
|
There's a body, there's a body |
|
There's a body in a drop, body in a lot |
|
Body uptown, body downtown |
|
And that's why homicide all around |
|
I'm in that brand new |
|
Range, when |
|
I pull up kid |
|
I turn your brains into red concrete stains |
|
That's the beauty of gruesome violence |
|
I'm loudmouth, nigga but my |
|
Ruger silent |
|
Sunup, sundown, my fish scale move |
|
And if a nigga wanna stop it he gon' be fish food |
|
Yeah, Yayo rhyme but |
|
I murk a person |
|
And when your mind leave your body your spirit is soul searchin' |
|
Gas your team, nigga, |
|
I'ma blast your team |
|
I got plastic milk jugs full of gasoline |
|
Four fours bark loud, you layin' in heaven |
|
While your moms and your pops in deep clouds of depression |
|
I turn your head into pasta and baked zucchini |
|
Like that bitch did that rasta in |
|
New Jack City |
|
In broad daylight, you better think twice |
|
Or that thing on your hip nigga better spray right |
|
It's a nine, it's a nine |
|
There's a clip in the nine, bullet in the clip |
|
Bullet in the chamber round on the ground |
|
And that's why homicide all around |
|
It's a hole, it's a hole |
|
It's a hole in his head, hole in his leg |
|
Hole in his pants, holes everywhere |
|
And that's why homicide all around |
|
It's a body, it's a body |
|
It's a body in a drop, body on the block |
|
Body uptown, body downtown |
|
And that's why homicide all around |
|
Feelin' to ****in' kill somebody right now, nigga, ****! |
|
Got a shit load of guns right now, nigga |
|
Homicide, come around, |
|
I'm gone, nigga |
|
When you see them suits and ties |
|
You best to believe |
|
I did that to you, nigga |
|
Matter of fact, |
|
I didn't do that to you |
|
C'mon man, shit is real, man |
|
This is for them, niggaz that |
|
**** you, listen, lemme tell you somethin' |
|
Don't run up on no whip |
|
Just run up on a nigga and blow his ****in' brains out |
|
That's what, that's gangsta, nigga, you hear me? |
|
Don't ****in' run up on a whip and spray somethin' |
|
Lemme see you, shoot a nigga brains out |
|
And stand there for two minutes |
|
And then run, mother****er |
