| Hey Dott Dogg… muthafucka was out there in them streets
|
| Nigga did whatever it took to get in nigga
|
| From the jackin', to the rappin', to the slangin' crack and…
|
| First Verse:
|
| X-Raided up in this bitch, bout to disrupt some shit
|
| Ain’t from the pound, but I’m still down to Kurupt some shit
|
| Interrupt your shit, cuz I’m always in a rush to spit
|
| Like an axe, when I rap, I splitter up your clique
|
| You better relax, be a witness or a participant
|
| Eddie Gaffin' laughin' at the CO, wonder where the Sergeants went
|
| See we flow, but it’s way more bigger than that
|
| Ransom note, deliver the gats and all them wack ass tracks
|
| So we slit his throat, it’s malicious, but the game’s vicious
|
| And niggas know, we’ll do anything that gains us riches
|
| We quick to flow, but we just as quick to bark that heat
|
| Start that beef and Dott Dogg will pause that heartbeat
|
| We hard to beat, like Schwarzanegger in movies bout factual
|
| Burning niggas like third degree
|
| Critical surgery
|
| When I’m mad, you hoes burglary, intrudin' your home |
| Stole everything like clepto includin' your dome
|
| Left your ass chewed up, gaze blast, mid-section blew up
|
| Bet you all five homicide detectives threw up
|
| Suit up, in coca sacks then I smoke a bag
|
| They make me get my focus back, then I choke the gat
|
| When it came to gettin' that money I did whatever it took
|
| Fuck dividin' the power, wanted every cranny and nook
|
| Understand me nigga, my family is full of thugs and crooks
|
| Kings and queens protected by knights, bishops, and rooks
|
| Second Verse:
|
| You better look into my eyes, can’t you see the pain?
|
| I’m tired of lies, bitches and niggas playin' games
|
| This is my ghetto prayer, Lord can you hear me?
|
| Protect my family from player haters, don’t let 'em near me
|
| No need to fear me, I’m only human
|
| Pursuin' dreams for greenbacks with more schemes, than J.R. Ewing
|
| I mean that sincerely
|
| Love my alcohol and tetrahydracanebanol dearly
|
| Consumin' twenty pounds yearly
|
| Clearly I’m out for the cash, nothin' else in my vision
|
| Takin' chances, makin' decisions that could keep me in prison |
| But circumstances keep demandin' me to break these laws
|
| Writin' lyrics strong enough to, penetrate these walls
|
| Dott Dogg, don't feel I’m guilty
|
| As charged, I’m filthy really
|
| Down for the cause, and I’m comin' raw til' they kill me feel me
|
| With slugs to the dome, ain’t no love so it’s on
|
| And if you ain’t thuggin' with me nigga, then I’m thuggin' alone
|
| I’m a ruggish bone like Bizzy, Wish, Krayzie, Layzie and Flesh
|
| Art of War to the last breath, nigga ride to the death
|
| We hardcore, Dott Dogg and Nefarious
|
| Mad man, Black Market til' they bury us
|
| Third Verse:
|
| I’m constricted on y’all ass like a python
|
| I’m ready to spit some venom, turn this mic on
|
| Run up in em
|
| Checkin' them niggas like a chess board
|
| Cuz they be hatin', what’cha think I sport a vest for?
|
| Premeditatin'
|
| Yes Lord I got my eye on’em
|
| When they try to get me I’ma have a fat surprise for 'em
|
| Got some advice for 'em
|
| You better recognize, Raided ain’t down for none of that bullshit
|
| Got a full clip, and this man eater won’t hesitate to pull it |
| And deliver the bullets to your chest like a mailman droppin' off letters
|
| Fat hole in your sweater
|
| Smash out with all your cheddar
|
| Met a nigga that had much game, deeper than the abyss
|
| Taught me such thangs as how to get fame and keepin' cash in my fist
|
| Now I insist to get my scrilla scratch
|
| How real is that?
|
| And I’m quick to peel a niggas cap
|
| Is you feelin' that?
|
| Move swiftly when I see the cops, cuz I ain’t scrillin'
|
| Muthafuckas wanna see me drop, but I ain’t willin'
|
| You a pawn in my book
|
| Busta market a hook
|
| Saw the fear in your eyes the first time that I looked
|
| I’ma treat y’all niggas like powdered cocaine it’s time to get cooked
|
| I’m Michael Jordan, you the average guard about to get shook |