| You better pray
|
| When you see me put that nine up in that pussy, ho
|
| Cock it back slow
|
| Rock it back and forth, wait for the nut, then let my trigger go
|
| BOOM!
|
| Pussy-guts all over the room
|
| If you ain’t seen it
|
| Then you’re fiendin'
|
| For the meanin'
|
| Of that nina of doom
|
| 2 inches in and, uh, 4 inches out
|
| You back that nigga that pack that gat
|
| And hit that indo-sack
|
| It’s like that
|
| Cannabis seteva got me stuck on stump, fool
|
| All it take is a way, a fat green-bud blunt and a stunt
|
| Cause it’s that nigga that work 'em nigga deep
|
| And block creep
|
| And witness murder, baby, kill a seed
|
| Once it’ll make you vomit
|
| Guts in a mama’s baby, nuts in a bottle, maybe it’s common
|
| Biatches keep fuckin' and suckin' and keepin' it comin'
|
| With they drama. |
| POP! |
| It’s baby killa season
|
| Put 6 in the clip, put it up that clit
|
| And watch them baby’s brains
|
| Drip out that fetus
|
| Bleed, it’s that nigga that kill 'em
|
| I’ll fill 'em all full for that sicc reason
|
| Season of da siccness broodin', got me trippin' for no reason
|
| Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper
|
| Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, motherfucker
|
| Now eat! |
| Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you, real, huh?
|
| Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga!
|
| Now eat!
|
| As I creep, picture every human that I seek
|
| Slabs of human meat
|
| Cause my kids gotta eat
|
| I lives kinda deep, dark, up in tha cut
|
| Where niggas load nines, and barrel-fuck a slut
|
| Nigga, what? |
| You ain’t even seen me in my prime
|
| Eatin' baby brains, baby veins, baby spines
|
| I know they be cryin' when I’m cuttin' off the neck
|
| I’m peelin' off the skin for some bacon-fried croquettes
|
| Baby villain spine, that baby-killin' mind
|
| A fifth-pound of gin cause I know I’m doin' time
|
| So catch me now before I do my next crime
|
| My kids' gotta eat, somebody’s baby’s on the line, nigga
|
| Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper
|
| Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, motherfucker
|
| Now eat! |
| Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you, real, huh?
|
| Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga!
|
| Now eat!
|
| Get ready for the nigga shit
|
| That siccer-than-sicc gut ripgut
|
| Pick-a-vic-up, fuck 'em up with a couple of nine-milla slugs
|
| And put 'em on the ground. |
| Murder toll. |
| Buck buck!
|
| Slugs to the womb
|
| Guts all over the room
|
| That legion of doom
|
| That S to the I-C-X
|
| With a locc and a tech for the throat
|
| And a neck full of gunsmoke it up, locc
|
| One for the nigga who kills them infants and senses
|
| Then this time, I hit 'em with a nine-millimeter, meter
|
| Now let’s pick up me freakin' up your skin
|
| Never knew nigga-meat cooked so thin!
|
| So I pack me a nine-milla gat
|
| And creep in the back of the 'Lac
|
| With a sack of the indo
|
| Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper
|
| Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, motherfucker
|
| Now eat! |
| Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you nigga
|
| Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga!
|
| Now eat!
|
| That’s right, once upon a time
|
| A nigga that hella sicc up in the skids
|
| With a lie for the snitch
|
| As a victim’s stoned, sayin' «I'll be bones to the pussy clits»
|
| They’re a baby ditch to the mastermind
|
| Nine-millimeter shells, they’re blind!
|
| Devils made a pact to fuck with match-to-heat, it’s one of a kind
|
| Low enough to the shit got hella deep that I had to patch it
|
| To a soul who had the heart to put his mama in a casket
|
| Who could it be?
|
| Or can he be
|
| Locked up in the county
|
| Cause the bounty
|
| Finally found a nigga like me?
|
| What’s up, my nigga?
|
| Pull this trigger
|
| And take my muthafuckin' legacy
|
| But watch your back
|
| Niggas be claimin' that they sicc
|
| But really don’t know which way to go when they be smokin' up with my lunatic
|
| Shiiiit, have you ever seen your mama’s cock? |
| (yeah!)
|
| Have you even seen a body drop? |
| (yeah!)
|
| Have you even loaded up your Glock?
|
| Well, I could gives a fuck cause even then, nigga, you not my nigga
|
| From that 24 Garden Block
|
| That’s doin' time
|
| For shootin' shadows up in the dark
|
| And tryin' to bite before he bark
|
| And when his heart stops
|
| From the metal blue blocks up in the cut
|
| They try to lynch my muthafucka to make some dice up out his nuts
|
| And what the fuck goes thru my nigga’s mind up in his cell?
|
| That 24 Deep, no sleep, much stress, nigga
|
| Nigga must be livin' up in hell
|
| And here I am, same muthafucka that got my nigga sicc
|
| Tryin' to kill myself but slippin' more deeper into the siccness shit
|
| Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper
|
| Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, muthafucka
|
| Now eat! |
| Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you nigga
|
| Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga!
|
| Now eat! |