molotov biatch!!

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Molotov Cocktail

You see it flyin through the mutha f***in air,
man, I think its gonna land in here, and oh
another beer bottle, breaks on the floor,
Oh shit, they just killed our motha f***in whore,
whacha gonna do, run for the door,
sprint outside, and hop in your ’64,
as more brothers run burnin, from the door,
this sh*** is insane,
methodically inhumane,
and what do they have to gain,
from killin the brothers, who otherwise would be
dealin to brothers, who on the side are just
stealin from brothers who finally end up
killin the brothers,
oh wait, it all make sense,
why their lives are so tense,
the side of your car,
eleven dents from a mac 10,
they did it again,
and what do you got for them?

I got a mutha f***in Molotov
Run fast, you hear the blast,
the flames fly past, and your last breath is just a gasp
cause of my mutha f***in molotov

1 part glass,
1 part gas,
A little bit of motoroil,
Now light the rag,
And throw it fast,
A Molotov cocktail for niggas with fingers,
Itchy on their triggers,
And even if their guns are bigger,
I’ve got the power of fire,
Burn that mother f***in liar to the ground,
And the only sound is a smash,
Then the screams as he makes a mad dash,
But its his last try, not to die,
You know his spirit will fly,
Straight to Hell, and its just as well,
Cause his job was to sell,
Drugs, guns and in comes the money and the girls,
But as the bottle twirls,
He takes a breath and tries to run from death,
But ends up burnin like the rest

I got a mutha f***in Molotov
Run fast, you hear the blast,
the flames fly past, and your last breath is just a gasp
cause of my mutha f***in molotov


class one, class two, mutha f***in class three,
I got a molotov cocktail bi***, don’t mess with me,
You can try to run but you wont get far,
A molotov driveby from my mutha f***in car,
Your grass goes up in smoke, but it aint chronic,
I head back to my hood, brothas are banging, and im on it,
Then I see its some of your boys on the other f***in triggers,
I hop out my car and yell “cap those f***in niggas”
Runnin to my trunk im breathin hard and fast,
Pop the sucka open and I grab my glass,
Get me a light nigga, I can end this fight nigga,
Ive seen the light nigga, now get me a light nigga,

I got a mutha f***in Molotov
Run fast, you hear the blast,
the flames fly past, and your last breath is a gasp
cause of my mutha f***in Molotov

fitted cap tilted to the side of my head,
last night I left three mutha f***as for dead,
they tried to shoot, shoulda ran instead,
bitch I aint gone die from some mutha f***in lead,
and now I’m walkin down the streets of west west,
all of ‘drew’s little niggas know THC is the best,
No mac 10, no glock, none of that shit
But they get up close and I’ll pull my switch,
That aint enough? Still don’t phase ‘em?
I’ll grab a f***in Molotov, light it, and blaze ‘em
And I see McAllister, creepin through BF,
Better lookout mutha f***a, I got bottles of death,
You touch our shit, we’ll come and find you,
You do it again, and we’ll sneak up behind you,
Don’t f*** with THC, or he’ll bring the VPA,
Give it a rest nigga, these the end of your days.

I got a mutha f***in Molotov
Run fast, you hear the blast,
the flames fly past, and your last breath is a gasp
cause of my mutha f***in Molotov

Molotov Cocktail

You see it flyin through the mutha f***in air,
man, I think its gonna land in here, and oh
another beer bottle, breaks on the floor,
Oh shit, they just killed our motha f***in whore,
whacha gonna do, run for the door,
sprint outside, and hop in your ’64,
as more brothers run burnin, from the door,
this sh*** is insane,
methodically inhumane,
and what do they have to gain,
from killin the brothers, who otherwise would be
dealin to brothers, who on the side are just
stealin from brothers who finally end up
killin the brothers,
oh wait, it all make sense,
why their lives are so tense,
the side of your car,
eleven dents from a mac 10,
they did it again,
and what do you got for them?

I got a mutha f***in Molotov
Run fast, you hear the blast,
the flames fly past, and your last breath is just a gasp
cause of my mutha f***in molotov

1 part glass,
1 part gas,
A little bit of motoroil,
Now light the rag,
And throw it fast,
A Molotov cocktail for niggas with fingers,
Itchy on their triggers,
And even if their guns are bigger,
I’ve got the power of fire,
Burn that mother f***in liar to the ground,
And the only sound is a smash,
Then the screams as he makes a mad dash,
But its his last try, not to die,
You know his spirit will fly,
Straight to Hell, and its just as well,
Cause his job was to sell,
Drugs, guns and in comes the money and the girls,
But as the bottle twirls,
He takes a breath and tries to run from death,
But ends up burnin like the rest

I got a mutha f***in Molotov
Run fast, you hear the blast,
the flames fly past, and your last breath is just a gasp
cause of my mutha f***in molotov


class one, class two, mutha f***in class three,
I got a molotov cocktail bi***, don’t mess with me,
You can try to run but you wont get far,
A molotov driveby from my mutha f***in car,
Your grass goes up in smoke, but it aint chronic,
I head back to my hood, brothas are banging, and im on it,
Then I see its some of your boys on the other f***in triggers,
I hop out my car and yell “cap those f***in niggas”
Runnin to my trunk im breathin hard and fast,
Pop the sucka open and I grab my glass,
Get me a light nigga, I can end this fight nigga,
Ive seen the light nigga, now get me a light nigga,

I got a mutha f***in Molotov
Run fast, you hear the blast,
the flames fly past, and your last breath is a gasp
cause of my mutha f***in Molotov

fitted cap tilted to the side of my head,
last night I left three mutha f***as for dead,
they tried to shoot, shoulda ran instead,
bitch I aint gone die from some mutha f***in lead,
and now I’m walkin down the streets of west west,
all of ‘drew’s little niggas know THC is the best,
No mac 10, no glock, none of that shit
But they get up close and I’ll pull my switch,
That aint enough? Still don’t phase ‘em?
I’ll grab a f***in Molotov, light it, and blaze ‘em
And I see McAllister, creepin through BF,
Better lookout mutha f***a, I got bottles of death,
You touch our shit, we’ll come and find you,
You do it again, and we’ll sneak up behind you,
Don’t f*** with THC, or he’ll bring the VPA,
Give it a rest nigga, these the end of your days.

I got a mutha f***in Molotov
Run fast, you hear the blast,
the flames fly past, and your last breath is a gasp
cause of my mutha f***in Molotov