Lyrics
Yea, Yo..
FI's bout to get shot-down//
die or get locked-down//
me and thai's gonna pop-rounds//
until ya guys are not-found//
my shots-surround ya dome like a fitted-hat//
spit-a-rap you gettin-clapped, for sayin shit-is-wack//
wit clips,-infact my clips gonna hit-ya-back//
when it hits-ya-back, its a wrap, better listen, jack//
fast-wit-sprayin, im pass-the-hatin//
no cash dat ya ass-is-makin, ya stash-gets-taken//
ya trash in da trash-for-makin dat track-ya-makin//
im pass ya procrastinatin im pass-da-waitin//
NO CASH, you aint graspin-nathan//
YALL SUCK, ridin ya own nuts like you were masterbatin//
da raps-is-slayin ya crew when i strap-n-spray-em//
n fuck that, you gonna clap before you have-to-play-em//
n draft-my-station on soundclick, make them sounds click, blast-you-fake-men//
im rapein all you kats til ya raps-forsaken//
FUCK IT, da trigga-gets-vilolent//
fuck bein quiet ima still pop until ya nigga-is-silent//
SILENCER, i got a cannon, put ya spittin-on-silent//
cause da bullet stick to ya jaw, like its grippin-on-trident//
ECLIPSE, you new to da crew, still gon receive-hits//
wit these-pricks, you a 'square' in a 'block' like cheese-nips//
T-G's a V12, yall a V6//
only half of us, not even yall bout a 3/5th//
but me-bitch, im high like weed-n-piff//
fuck wit me D, you wont get hit, itll be-ya-chick//
itll be-some-shit, but my dick done seen-her-hips//
QUONNA aint dat sick, unless she got my dick between-her-lips//
POINT BLANK stop-rappin-aight?//
you da type to have a fuckin glock-strapped-in-a-fight//
then take it out, cause you actin-tonight//
then shoot yaself in da face, cause you wasnt clappin-it-right//
back to HUSTLE cause he talk mad shit-in-da-chat//
only strap he packs on caps so he can fitted-his-hat//
BITCH, get rid-of-this-kat, im bruisin-em-too//
gays comin out da closet is like losin-to-you//
NOTHING, im crusin-wit-tools, refusin-to-lose//
put crisis in a body bag, so his move'll-improve//
shoot em up, so this fool'll-just-ooze//
blood out every orthesis in his body, dats wat im doin-to-you//
im movin-in-crews, deulin-wit-troops//
right by my side, youll be chewin-da-boots//
put ya face in da ground, have you movin-da-roots//
you cant fight back, dont kno wat to do-when-you-shoot//
MUH FUCKKA, YEAH
DON dont think-that-its-over//
just because you left last, dont think-you-a-soldier//
im comin for dat ass, you blink-n-ill-blow-ya//
wit guns, your a virgin like wat you drinkin-it-sober//
Alcohol, now im outtin-yall, wit wats left like south-paw//
ill knock you niggas out, when you bout-to-fall//
im bout-to-call TWELV GAUGE, bring em out-n,-well//
when we come, yall gon be starin down da route-to-hell//
