[Produced By El RTNC]
[Verse 1]
Keep it Thoro like Bandana P
Take your wife on the canopy, she's like a can of peaches
Don't bring sand to my beaches, I'm no fan of features
When in the booth you smell fire
Smoke an L with Elvira
Leave the Philly blunts to Lily Munster
To ask her what she really wants to do
(Keep on talking) Ya hillbilly boo
What's her name, Billy Sue?
And I heard she put up the cash
What makes you think I want to see the video when you're trailer trash
You the type to run out of d** and rail your a**
What a failure, fall back, you're too frail to clash
Step up, get [Blocked?] like the cash ball
Motherf**s still stuck on the last bar
Moving forward, I got my own slang
You can keep your old word like you made a promise
[Hook]
Hi, it's about to be a homicide, homicide
It's about to be a homicide, homicide
It's about to be a homicide
It's about to be a homicide
It's about to be a homicide, homicide
It's about to be a homicide, homicide
It's about to be a homicide
It's about to be a homicide
[Verse 2]
Get you out of here like the sign that said Obama fried chicken
Or the corner thirsty for a homicide or a stick and licking
One false move, it's time to pay
Ain't no saying peace or Namaste, I'm gone find out where your mama stay
Fall the hell back, all Imma say (keep on talking)
On that silly sh** scrapped, you really get slapped
And none of my affiliates rap, pull off in a newer whip
Testament to my entrepreneurship
This units was shipped across the border
It's f**ed up when a quart of juice don't even cost a quarter
Rest in peace to home girl, a stray caught her in the aorta
That's straight from Droog, the pissy hallway reporter
Now back to you in the studio, see what the weatherman got to say
Heard they raining bullets today
[Verse 3: Prodigy]
It's about to be a homicide, kids and mamas cry
Toast to your d**h smoke till our eyes
Bloodshot red, rum, murder, we k** em
Emotionless, numb, no we don't feel them
Cause dumb n***as deserve d**h
I put his punk a** where all the foul n***as went
Cross me f**er, feel my busta bust
And I ain't talking bout rhymes, better duck