| Uh nigga, nigga, nigga, nigga
|
| Nigga, we some soldiers huh
|
| You fucking with some soldiers, inflated face folders
|
| Roll with us niggas, or get rolled over
|
| Bitch we’ll fold ya, steady weaving and bobbing
|
| With twin Glocks, that’ll leave a nigga forehead slobbing
|
| Who it be that’s me nigga, from 12 000 block
|
| Bust shots and don’t stop, till twelve thousand drop
|
| Subject to catch me, in a 2002 drop
|
| Palamene inside, penut butter top
|
| I’m 18 young, I ain’t 18 dumb
|
| I got steam with infra' beams, and seventeen come
|
| Hollow tips coming out, of a thirty round drum
|
| When I drop a two hundred, and thirty pound some
|
| A back street thug nigga, my fo'-fo' plug niggas
|
| Affiliated with killers, and punk foe mud sippers
|
| Dice ice fine niggas, creep up from behind niggas
|
| Don’t need ice my heat, bling-bling blind niggas
|
| A pitbull full breed, mash on full speed
|
| A hustler head buster, my heart pump block bleed
|
| You slip fucked up, you might not luck up
|
| My tool give head wounds, blowing niggas the fuck up
|
| When I’m dealing with cheddar, I’m on toes like slippers |
| Pyrex fo’s, for 28 gram whippers
|
| Avoiding these snitches, and two 22 tippers
|
| Affiliated with killers, we choppers and ruger rippers
|
| Snapping like alligators, and plugging niggas like clippers
|
| Heavyweight contenders, hard hitters and tooth chippers
|
| Battleship sinkers, and potent pint sippers
|
| 20 inch rim feelers, and candy paint drippers
|
| Nigga we Interstate skaters, dope game gladiators
|
| Third time offenders, plus we brick penetrators
|
| For seven figgas or greater, we annihilate blocks
|
| Bigger niggas with bigger Glocks, and hollow tip shots
|
| In the mix ready to bubble, like water in hot pots
|
| Aggravated intoxicated, and pulling out stash spots
|
| Automatic extended clips, with infrared dots
|
| We grave diggers with twelve gauge slugs, and buck shots
|
| I roll with real niggas, I roll with ill niggas
|
| Bad to the bone, lunatics and trill niggas
|
| Cap peelers and drug dealers, that’s my squad
|
| I’m not Bin Laden, but I’ll drop a bomb
|
| Juve, that’s not my name
|
| The Juggler, and I’m bringing the pain
|
| Switching lane to lane, catch you slipping it’s over |
| Bitch I done told ya, I’m a Laf-Tex soldier
|
| Whoa, slow that down lil' daddy
|
| You moving kinda fast, but that’s kinda loftly daddy
|
| Living lavish in the game, I’m a outlaw
|
| Plus Poppy, is a southpaw
|
| That play the game raw, that’s how the game goes
|
| Putting the rap game up, in a figure fo'
|
| I ain’t no ho boy, you better watch how you speak
|
| Killers up on the creep, plus my pitbulls don’t sleep it’s on nigga |