Yeah, welcome to (Detroit, nigga!) The reason why rappers pack pistols (Why is that?)
Slick wit, the shit I spit chews Like a bullet came back that missed and hit you I say the type of shit parents their wrists to Need an anthem to amp you, then this the to Too many enemies on my list to through Nobody got my back in this bitch but do Sorry officer I care how pissed it get you But I don't go nowhere without my pistol
Nigga, we violently active, so fuck us See I'm backwards, I slap and punch bitches Just for asking, they musta wanting to meet the Lord When my parents talked to me, got mean mugged and ignored They were snooping through my closet, seen drugs on the from the 44 scattered over they porch Busting pistols in your windows with intentions to you Tryna break neck to conversate? Bitch, I'll do it for you Catch me at your funeral when they lower you You and your ho, you to go, bitches died slow and horrible There's no for any nigga we'll shower you We young strapped and powerful and I gotta lie to you
in the door, waving the 44 Blazing at po-po, and lay low They my tongue ya-yo, but I spit fire I lit five a fucking dick-rider The clip slider, to blast a Mag You a fag, you love ass to ass Grab a gun by the nose with the to gat-spank ya Never say that I'm a gangsta (Now gangsta) Y'all niggas sound Jigga but act like Pac Yo my trigger got the flu and this gat might It ain't to tell, empty shells for the witness I'm the hot that's gon' put hell outta business It won't be the same since we the game the hardest nigga in your crew, tuck in his chain Y'all this shit's a game and I'm bluffing for fame? I'll squeeze off this tec until remains
The only that I'm at peace is when I'm close to one Cause I don't know waiting for me when my vocals are done Tote the gun, my way of life and it works These cowardly niggas'll put your fucking life in the Cause it was wrong how they left my dog, he was in the streets, bleeding, staring, laying lifeless That's why I'm heated, you never who starts creeping Waking you up with AK's you lie sleeping I'd rather the heat and not need it Rather than need one and not have it, I this Glock-matic
You the sound when I'm spinning round these rounds from four pounds While the whole crowd screaming as they mouths as they possibly allow? Nothing is to making you carousel Aerial somersault like wheels to a pair of shells Denaun the nine where I go Bullets and hit you while I'm shooting at 5-0 Some semi-automatic for static's the Spitting like kids* from Colorado
This nine'll a softy to a hard rock It'll make Witnesses, think before they knock (Sorry, sorry!) It'll make your grandmother outta her purse It'll make Limp Bizkit, get rid of Durst It'll Holyfield start fighting It'll make say fuck church and go back to writing It'll Shyne say he sound like Biggie Smalls make R. Kelly, give respect to Aaron Hall It'll make Reeves start walking make a dog with no voice, suddenly start barking It'll a nun turn to a filthy slut It'll make the hardest pitbull, to a fucking mutt It'll a Muslim dye his hair blonde make a redneck start to read the Holy Qu'ran (Need Jesus!) It'll make Ike stop beating It'll make Slim Shady fall back in with Christina