|
Intro/chorus： |
|
The last thing that i saw was when he cried |
|
Shot him in the face and walked away before he died |
|
(repeat 4x) |
|
Verse one: |
|
I'm pacin the flo' with the fo'-pound |
|
Visualizin graphics while he talkin, givin me the low down |
|
My ****** went away in ninety-three and died instantly |
|
Now i'ma show the ****** you kilt and what he meant to me |
|
I put his photos in my fo'-do' |
|
I know where the ****** be kickin it at |
|
Me at him poppin it at the same hoe |
|
My conversation be on royalties |
|
She loyal to me, and i'ma get her to kill the ****** for me |
|
Uhh, it seems his life is in my hands |
|
And i don't plan to let it slip through the way you kilt him |
|
I'ma kill you |
|
Despite the fact that i've been shot before |
|
As long as i get this ************-ass ****** i don't mind, dyin, so |
|
Take the lock off the pound like a pro |
|
Grab an extra clip make sure i don't come short |
|
Pull up and mad dog his whole crib |
|
Hocus pocus mother****** i'm in your face with this hot steel |
|
The thrill to kill is unbearable |
|
I told the ************ to close her eyes |
|
Send up the roots give something terrible |
|
The ultimate payback is revenge |
|
Tnt and cement shoes, plus the way he went was cool! |
|
Seventeen shots, top hip-hop |
|
******, the world, cause the world ****** you |
|
That's how we serves on this late night |
|
Pump pump chump chump rump pump fools stay tight |
|
Chorus |
|
Verse two: |
|
Now who the ****** i suppose to follow? |
|
Is it them honkies in the white house |
|
Or that ****** drinkin out that forty bottle? |
|
Either way it goes, i'm eager to bloodshed |
|
I'm catchin one plus one equals two to the forehead |
|
Career was callin alcohol was chemically made to wrap us |
|
So when i swab, the neighborhood crab is where he left us |
|
On the street, the mud was wiped from who survived |
|
He wanted me dead, cold red and blood he had to die |
|
Slapped that ass with this mac-10 |
|
It's just so hard when you depart, make that chest do a backbend |
|
Bend back easy to the liquor sto' |
|
Cut me a four-oh, and up a four-five on this korean hoe |
|
Cuff the loot and bit one slowly |
|
Reverse my coat plus half a block i done some dirt |
|
Dem a knows me |
|
There's no endin for this madness |
|
I had the situation turnin till i started drinkin this mad ************t |
|
Now there's a hole in this bucket (in this bucket) |
|
In the chick i had to stick for the lick, ****** it |
|
Crack the fo' and drunk it boldly |
|
All the boys was tailin behind me, but they didn't even knows me |
|
So then they hit the blue lights, i bent the u right |
|
Zipped past the red light, and it became a mother****** street fight |
|
Chorus |
|
Verse three: |
|
Altitude, a level where a ****** show no gratitude |
|
More like attitude |
|
Hands on pumps, bodies in trunks |
|
Victim face down, in that trunk rum-pum, pum pum |
|
My mission to decease individuals |
|
When night falls i crawl like black widows |
|
With barrels in the middle |
|
Blaow, cause i like to move the crowd |
|
Watch em turn cold as they bodies pile |
|
Evaporate like lightning as fast as ****** |
|
A small armed tec hit like an eighteen wheeler truck |
|
Put his head in his hands, cause i don't give no ****** |
|
Ashes to ashes and bust when i must |
|
Cackling these bodies, that i've turned to dust |
|
Six million ways to die, one more is a plus |
|
I revolve like revolvers, and answer all challenge |
|
Sos cut your ass off better |
|
Chorus |