| Somebody call the morgue, I just caught a DOA
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| Two to the head, I shot the bitch in broad day
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| No joke, I smoke gunshots you heard from blocks and blocks
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| I bust Mac-10s, oo-wops and Glocks
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| Shit, killing every nigga in sight
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| Bust a cap and crack a joke over your grave like Dolemite
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| Cause I’m a sick-ass nigga with no brains
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| Burst in flames, turn the mic into blood stains
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| Any thought I think, you blink and drink death
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| So I rip the mic and pat my nigga to the left
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| 5ft. |
| Accelerator, greater than your crew
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| Bring in your whole mob, motherfucker, you’re still through
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| Yo nigga, where’s my four-fifth?
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| I got more riff for any pussy niggas to forfeit
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| Bring it on, what, I got no shame
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| Buckshot’s in the house and you know my name
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| Niggas talk shit but that ain’t my steel'
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| Niggas talk shit but that ain’t my steel'
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| Niggas talk shit but that ain’t my steel'
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| I’m the type of nigga to put lead in your grill
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| Slow it down one pitch for that ho with the lick
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| Pass the automatic, I’m about to flip
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| And spray niggas with my vocal loco B comes express
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| Lead to the chest penetrate through the vest
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| And when I roll mad deep niggas back off
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| Fucking with Buckshot it’s blood you cough
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| I don’t laugh or joke, I never choke on a blunt
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| But I choke a stunt if it’s beef she want
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| So bring the motherfucking arrow and I play Rambo
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| When I shoot the crossbow inside the ho
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| And her nigga, triggers I’m addicted to
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| Like angel dust I bust holes in your crew
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| You’re wack, face the fact, you’re all on my jock
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| To the um tic-toc, I don’t pop
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| So yo make way so I can make my debut
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| I’m funky but you’re Pepe Le Pew
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| Watch your mouth, nigga, I heard you’re talking mad shit
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| If you’re really on my dick, bend, take a lick
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| Here’s your choice cause my voice’ll break backbones and necks
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| Who’s next to flex and feel the wrath of my Tec
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| I spray, no delay, more jabs than Sugar Ray
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| I murder then I drop dead bodies in the bay
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| Beats with mad funk, pop the trunk
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| Play my tape while you lay back, puff the skunk
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| I’m no joke, I flip the script like De Niro
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| I’m a four course meal, you’re a one dollar Hero
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| I’m sorta like the mob when I get the job done
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| Contracts and all that, guns, guns
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| So stay the fuck back or feel the heat from my gat
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| Buckshot Shorty, see I always stay strapped
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| With the nickel nine on my motherfucking waistline
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| Bitch, you know my name, bring it in |