| Uh, yeah, mmmm
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| William H., niggas
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| Holla, yeah, yo That’s why I squeeze first, ask questions last
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| That’s how most of these so called gangstas pass
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| I squeeze first, ask questions last
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| 'Cuz when I pull up, always pop, that’s why I’m livin' today
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| Yo, when I meet ya, I heat ya down
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| When I greet ya, meet ya with pound
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| Not the handshake, but the kind that make ya demand a wake
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| The kind that put land over your face
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| I pop ya, let doctors stitch ya
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| I N F R A, will not miss ya I move light, like my shoes too tight
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| Leave niggas confused from the day to the night
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| At night, see the light, when the pistol’s sparkin'
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| Daytime it gets dark when that pistol barkin'
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| I keep cash 'case cops arrest me
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| 'Case kids kidnap me, kids could get back me You shall repent 'fore you spend a red cent
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| If not, you somebody up close to sin
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| Thou shalt not fuck with raw me, or he Face a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn Correy
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| Carter, rap harder like I’m part of a cult
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| Like Cuban cigar maker 'cept I’m hard to smoke
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| And y’all choke motherfuckers
|
| That’s why I squeeze first, ask questions last
|
| That’s how most of these so called gangstas pass
|
| I squeeze first, ask questions last
|
| 'Cuz when I pull up, always pop, that’s why I’m livin' today
|
| I said, thou shalt not fuck with raw me, or he Face a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn Correy
|
| Carter, rap harder like I’m part of a cult
|
| Like Cuban cigar maker 'cept I’m hard to smoke
|
| Thou shalt not fuck with raw me, or he Face a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn Correy
|
| Carter, rap harder like I’m part of a cult
|
| Like Cuban cigar maker 'cept I’m hard to smoke
|
| And y’all choke niggas
|
| That’s why I squeeze first, ask questions last
|
| That’s how most of these so called gangstas pass
|
| I squeeze first, ask questions last
|
| 'Cuz when I pull up, always pop, that’s why I’m livin' today
|
| Y’all don’t understand
|
| I said, thou shalt not fuck with raw me, or he Face a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn Correy
|
| Carter, rap harder like I’m part of a cult
|
| Like Cuban cigar maker 'cept I’m hard to smoke
|
| Y’all choke niggas
|
| That’s why I squeeze first, ask questions last
|
| That’s how most of these so called gangstas pass
|
| I squeeze first, ask questions last
|
| 'Cuz when I pull up, always pop, that’s why I’m livin' today
|
| See when I’m low in digits, I push blow in a blizzard
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| I’m a player for real, I post and pivot
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| Coke distribute be where the ghosts visit
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| Where the demons live, shit my scene is vivid
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| Squeamish kids, y’all get the fuck outta this verse
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| It’s about to get so obscene in a minute
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| I seen and live it, I did some things I admit it Wasn’t proud of it, but I was a child fuck it Kept a pow tucked in a brown belt
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| Couldn’t sit down, big gun kept stickin' my pelvis
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| Shit it was either that or be livin' wit' Elvis
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| Niggas is jealous, hell is hot, you heard X Wanted to tell God that I don’t deserve this
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| Was afraid that he’d tell me I deserve less
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| My life was nervous, you haven’t heard stress
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| 'Til you heard the cries of my mama, me givin' her drama
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| Told her I ain’t promised tomorrow, gotta live for the day
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| And before she could say Jay
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| I was out the door, pouch full of raw, a outlaw mentality
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| Men gotta do men things for men salary
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| Bad Boy, not Puff or Mike Lowery
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| Damn B.I.G. |
| woulda been proud of me Ahh, shit man
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| Young Hova ya heard?
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| Who could fuck wit' him? |