| Yeah
|
| One, Two
|
| Yeah
|
| One, Two
|
| Yeah
|
| One, Two
|
| 7L, What up Pa
|
| Yeah, Pack Pistol Pazzy
|
| Listen, Yeah
|
| Great initiation was graded, until it dawned on me
|
| That I was born to be the destruction, storming on Normandy
|
| The shotty make your soul evaporate, like it was sorcery
|
| I walk accordingly, cause the horror hardly haunted me
|
| Cause (God?) wanted me but the lonely poverty torture me
|
| For talking awkward things from the Holy portion he offered me
|
| He walk with me and taught me th inexplicable conjuring
|
| The offring, the thieving, the stolen Father of larceny
|
| Ièm talking cautiously, the Malaysian modern monarchy
|
| The darkening, the weakness, the vision loss of the Valkyrie
|
| The haunt (en)ing, the thought of the martyr on the departur (i)e
|
| The archery, the shooter, the cornerstone of Idolatry
|
| The hammer connoisseur, I’m like throwing (? is &? for me)
|
| And walk to me so I can just mark it off of the glossary
|
| The slick-talking type, with a scientologist auditing
|
| The blood sacrifice I offer you head as an offering
|
| I’m an OG shoota, gifted with the Ruger
|
| Ain’t nobody gunning for me
|
| I’m a sawed-off holder, straps on both shoulders
|
| Ain’t nobody coming for me
|
| I’m a black-tar pusha, superfly snooka
|
| Never put a body on me
|
| I’m a stonecold stunner, .50 cal gunner
|
| Ain’t nobody fucking with me
|
| I’m an OG shoota, gifted with the Ruger
|
| Ain’t nobody gunning for me
|
| I’m a sawed-off holder, straps on both shoulders
|
| Ain’t nobody coming for me
|
| I’m a black-tar pusha, superfly snooka
|
| Never put a body on me
|
| I’m a stonecold stunner, .50 cal gunner
|
| Ain’t nobody fucking with me
|
| Outro
|
| (Fading out progressively)
|
| Ain’t nobody fucking with me
|
| Ain’t nobody fucking with me
|
| Ain’t nobody fucking with me
|
| Ain’t nobody fucking with me |