Lyrics
J bigs takes no short cuts
i was born tough so for me war is just a warm up
i'll beat your face through
tables and stomp on your fuckin head just for having me chase you
I'm a man of my word
because if it didn't come from my mouth, bitch
Damn what you heard.
I'm stuck in the battlefield
there's dead bodies and holes that are just gravel filled
i butcher like cattle
ya'll some snake i can even hear your damn rattle still
i'll cut your damn head off
cause you mens soft and bring heat to your mouth like some red sauce.
things are getting fishy like jesus in the basket
NYPD bastards shoot you with fifty it aint iffy when i mask it.
in this depression the whole city and the masses
will get gritty and take glity and your fashion,
from your pretty little asses
