| ******s in the hood lookin at me crazy | |
| Tellin ******s like they wanna ****** my old lady | |
| Same ****** ******t every day at 8 o'clock | |
| ******, start my day off raisin off the ****** | |
| I throw the khakis on, with the t-******rt | |
| Never knowin when a ****** might hit the dirt | |
| I'm thinkin, how in the ****** can i get high quicker | |
| Mix the blunt with some mutha****** malt liquor | |
| These ******s that i love, i don't trust em, but i stay close to em | |
| In case i gotta do em | |
| We from the same set, but that don't mean ******t no mo' | |
| I be premeditatin with the .44 (.44) | |
| My hoe be tellin a ****** to peel they caps back | |
| Cause i know where them ******s hide they ******t at | |
| ******t be on my mind, return a shot call | |
| Broke as ******, it's about to get hot, y'all | |
| [ chorus: big rocc ] | |
| ******s starvin while you're home with the mills | |
| ******s killin while you're doin **** deals | |
| Out flossin, throwin 100 $ bills | |
| Time to set yo ass up for the kill | |
| Death of a shot caller, who can you trust? | |
| It might be your number 1 ****** that bust | |
| A cap, he's the next one to take charge | |
| Smoke him and his ****** in his backyard | |
| [ verse 2: mc ren ] | |
| A ******'s sittin on the curb | |
| Hear that ****** come bumpin with the suburb | |
| Got my ******s on point, same ******s he be ****** hoes with | |
| And rollin up the blunts when he wanna get lit | |
| Homie, when that ****** put the mutah******a in park? | |
| That's the signal, little ******, pump 3 in his heart | |
| Don't feel ******t, cause it's real ******t, he a ****** | |
| ******s in the hood doin bad while he gettin rich | |
| Off this ******t we be killin ******s fo' | |
| Can't make a move less this mutha******a say so | |
| ******, ****** that, i'm runnin this ******t | |
| I'ma look him in his eyes when his punk-ass gettin hit | |
| But if you miss, ******, i'ma kill you | |
| Cause if he get away, mutha******a, then we all through | |
| ****** 3 shots, ******, add 2 | |
| And handle what the ****** you gotta do | |
| Kill the shot caller | |
| Man, you know we been smokin ******s for this mutha******a | |
| This ****** ain't paid us ******t, man | |
| (i know, dog) | |
| Hold up, hold up, hold up, dog | |
| Man, gimme the gat, i - damn | |
| Hey ******, you got my mutha****** money? | |
| ******, ****** yo money, ****** | |
| No ******, ****** you | |
| ( *shots* ) | |
| Oh ******t, oh ******t... | |
| Damn! | |
| [ verse 3: tha chill ] | |
| These o.g.'s got me twisted like twizzler | |
| Got me heated and hot, and all i'm thinkin is killin ya | |
| Peelin ya cap back, like starter, fool | |
| I'm comin to get you ******s off my block, so i pack a full | |
| Glock with big slugs, and you know i buck no doubs | |
| Cause you know a ****** steelo, how i did them fools a week ago | |
| One week passed, i'm hearin you wanna wet us | |
| When you see ren, rocc, tha chill, you're puttin on the jetters | |
| What the ******? these ******s tryin to bust on me? | |
| So i'm ******in up the can and ready to make them do some gas | |
| And do some flippin, and all that | |
| Cause ******s out here shot call, get they ass jacked | |
| And that's the main fact, big payback for you punk mutha****** | |
| Disrespectin the crew, it's mandatory that i buck | |
| Ass down from comptown, mr. shot caller | |
| Gonna be a fast faller if he ain't a fast talker | |
| Fast walker, or better yet better be a fast runner | |
| Chill on the scope with the cannon, finna gun ya | |
| Dumpin 9 to the gut like '******, what?' | |
| This ol' b.g. big baller, ****** the mutha****** shot caller | |
| [ chorus ] |
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