| Scraped my elbow jumpin’the fence
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| Creepin’through the grass camoflauged lookin’for them
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| Cowards, non-believers, contradictors, I’m comin’to get ya You try to frame me without the picture
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| Shit, I’m obligated, to be a Juvenile for life
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| It don’t change robbin’shit in this game
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| I know you heard about that 7th ward, 9th and the rest
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| But who’s down to knock a head off and wear a vest?
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| Take a flight through that Nolia and then see who represent
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| Not with them thugs ridin’wearin’them black reebok tennis
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| Niggas fifteen, sixteen, seventeen
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| Slangin’iron from that Josephine through that Melphanine
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| And would do almost anything to prove himself relentless
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| Like, a murder job and forgettin’the consequences
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| Hustlin’through the brick walls avoidin’the feds
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| Pushin’the dope steady duckin’blue eyes and curly heads
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| And he got caught and then start, runnin’with yo peers
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| Got swole and been home and now you back out chea
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| And that boyd that cha shot, brothas hangin’on the block
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| You don’t know him but he know ya look you bout to get got
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| BOW!!! |
| Laid out in cold blood on the Ave.
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| Here comes the paramedics media and crime lab
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| Understand this is all he know and it’s all he see
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| Which is why they known to be a Juvenile just like me Would’ja see that my words were a little bit cold a little bit trife
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| Down with Tec Mafia Juvenile fa life
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| Chorus:
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| Niggas… they comin’to get’cha
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| You betta watch ya back before they muthafuckin’split cha (3x)
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| Second Verse:
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| Ain’t that cold? |
| I heard a nigga, downed my nigga
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| My partna just paged me and say they found my nigga
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| It’s a bust back thang can’t be no hoes
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| I got a hundred rounds plus for my Calico
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| Fa sho we get’s busy, and leave that ass fonky
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| Full of that monkey and we don’t to act a donkey
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| I’ma go get in my all black fit, when I come just sit
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| Cuz if ya sit cha hit, if ya split cha split
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| If you die, you die
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| Take it ten for one, wave bye-bye wave bye-bye
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| You done took mine, I’ma take yearn
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| This is what’cha earn, chopper bullets burn
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| S.K. |
| trigga clicker, the blunt-smoker lighter flipper
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| Paper chaser for six figures bout my issue
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| I’m get to split cha, get cha if you in my way
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| I’ma deal wit’cha, muthafucka take a picture
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| I’ll wax that ass then tax on my yay
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| Today if play I lay with the A.K.
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| To spray and lay down the snaps I get down
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| Niggas can’t touch what me and Bun puttin’down
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| Now down and pump round and distribute kees
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| You sleep six feet I tear down the whole street
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| Wear down the family they grieve because ya flat
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| Bust ya head up leave ya deader yo blood redder
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| I done fucked ya set down nigga hut
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| Nigga what keep ya mouth shut retalitation is a must
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| Third Verse:
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| Dead ass nigga don’t fail, no yellin', hit the door it never fail
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| Shippin’his ass off to Hell, still the killas left behind him
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| Can’t find him cuz the nine flatlined him
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| Now Mister, murda master for the lastin'
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| Niggas tryed to swerve it past her, turned into a nervous bastard
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| The blaster the Cash Money clique’ll shoot em up And me all we had to do was boot em up He got the buck now who the fuck want it?
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| I can’t see it happen, clips be clappin'
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| Cappin’you til’you see through Bitch go ask B3 too how we do Cuz me, you to one equals people,
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| Retaliation also known as the sequel
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| It’s X-rated, cuz the clique’s made ten and now you throw the bitch
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| Like I got no fuckin’sense, and I don’t so take that
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| A dead ass nigga can’t talk, wave or blink back
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| Click! |
| Snapshot, to me your rap’s not
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| That hot like a fat rock off a crack spot
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| In the back got a stable,
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| That’s able to crack a bitch with a conference table
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| Then choke her wit a jumper cable
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| A Chiefer that stay reefer mo blunted
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| One time a hoed stunted
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| We beat that bitch and right now no more frontin'
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| Niggas actin’all shitty, gettin’no pity
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| Cuz my niggas actin’pretty showin’many from our city
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| Retalitation nigga |