| Allah U Akbar, everybody just be calm | 
| That’s the word passed down from the Emonh | 
| It came from the Qu’ran, it can’t be wrong | 
| It’s only measure, the time, the God’s eons | 
| So I suggest you follow Allah way | 
| Or turn into a bitch, inside the jungle’s of raw way | 
| That’s what the Lord say, you ain’t ready for that | 
| You better bring a bulletproof and machete for that | 
| And nobody wanna be there | 
| They stick you with 30 motherfuckers, up in the tare | 
| Now it’s back to the topic at hand, I’m rockin’ya fam | 
| And fight against the army with a rock in my hand | 
| A glock in my hand, divide ya body into two parts | 
| And change ya entire theories of God by spittin’two darts | 
| But I just wanna people to build | 
| And did Emadma Hussein, know that he would be killed? | 
| We comin’for blood (in the name of Allah) | 
| We comin’for blood (and we ain’t playin’with ya’ll) | 
| We comin’for blood (we destroy and rebuild) | 
| We comin’for blood (if you ain’t loyal, you killed) | 
| I got a vice grip on the mic, spittin’my shit | 
| My balls and arrogance alone be the cause of these hits | 
| Easily split ya wig, with the flick of a wrist | 
| Send the block, ya body’s grindin’you, and to the abyss | 
| But that’s some, sick shit, I only do when I trip | 
| Or when I’m, til them motherfuckers runnin’they lip | 
| That’s when I, start the procedure, of body beatin’you into a seizure | 
| Your crew is standing there staring lookin’like non believers | 
| I felt 'em standing and staring that’s when I pulled the heater | 
| My ratchet cookin’these faggots, I make 'em all see the | 
| Fact of the matter is, the cue don’t back down | 
| This ain’t no slap down, you gettin’clapped clown | 
| So don’t be runnin’around, talkin’all this and that | 
| That’s female shit, type of shit that get you trapped | 
| Into a dark corner, rope pullin’on ya Tried to escape, hear shots, left ya ass a goner | 
| I’m ready to blackout, crippler crossface tap-out | 
| Comin’through the fuckin’door with the gats out | 
| Let the blood rain down and drippin’ya skin | 
| Let the slug hit ya crown and rip up ya limbs | 
| I’m the illest fuckin’rapper alive | 
| Give me 16 shots, I can crack you in five | 
| I have to survive, have to get my money and shine | 
| Have to get everything that I used to promise my mom | 
| I gotta do it for everyone that I promised something | 
| So everyone who thought I wouldn’t be alive or something | 
| Come on money, that’s some cold shit, wishin’me dead | 
| So I beat in their mid-section, til they pissin’in red |