(feat. DMG)
[DMG]
Call me psychotive but I'm bad, n***a yo!
And I'ma do ya bad, black
And when I come, I'm bustin up n***as to hear me, black
Ya should of never let a n***a see
if there was n***as and b**hes and b**hes and n***as that hated me
Huh, I waited for my date to come-of-age
and now I'm of-age I can't escape the f**in front page
So I guess that n***a D is up to hit again
I kicks the funky sh** and coke, and stupid like I'm Gilligan
I'm P, supposed to hit a lick for a jack
The only thing I gained is the pain of n***as comin back
n***a lookin for they sh**, aggravated and pissed
n***as they can't f** with my clique
I'm here to break em off for chunk
A D-E-A-T-H-L-Y, a motherf**in punk
And I be rollin with the bra**
Don't answer with the ziggers in your hood, he break your neck to roll a
pa**, n***a
Don't even stop to say 'Whattup?' cos I bust for the f**
And pay some quick to light a motherf**er up
Next time you stop me on your block, I hope you leave the place
or be the next to meet the Lord face-to-face
n***a, I ain't the one to take no bullsh**
Cos see a n***a like the D is game to empty out the full clip
So when I come for ya, act like ya know
Sittin motherf**in smooth to the curb but you don't hear do'
[Chorus:]
I'ma bring ya to ya a**hole (uh)
Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
Bustin on that a** but still I see that you don't hear me do'
(But you don't hear me do')
Bring ya to ya a**hole (uh)
Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
Bustin on that a** but still I see that you don't hear me do'
[DMG]
It's time to f** em up, here it comes, BLAST, n***a!
Thump to your chest and they comin out your a**, n***a
I grew apart, livin my life as a criminal
n***as G to k** but still I see that you don't hear me do'
So I'ma serve it to ya fat, hit the deck, mate
Hit the deck mate, call me Flipper when I checkmate
D-um divertin nine, Tre-9, full Glock, Glock
My Glock makin sounds and it don't stop
So n***a pa** the swisha quick
and I'ma blaze til the motherf**er burn me off my fingertips
Cos, see a n***a gotta saty high
I try to smoke til I can't smoke and then I won't smoke
But still I got my fingers on my sh**
and click, click, click, ya die, die, die, ya dead, b**h!
You tried to test the wrong n***a, be a tested
Straight from St.Paul but clockin G's down in Texas
Some think I'm talk cos I play it cool
but I ain't the average motherf**er, I do the sh** that n***as won't do
Huh, like pistol whip a woodie for his bank
Then after that I gate and grab his b**h and do the same thang
And I will pain up the a**hole
Collectin grips on my drips as I stroll but you don't hear me do'
[Chorus]
[DMG]
Ain't no mistakin what I'm bringin, you motherf**ers still ain't had
enough
So I'ma continue to break you off for proper a** chunk
May it be 9, may it be a gauge, may it be a shank
Any way you come I'm in your motherf**in sh**, mate!
Huh, a n***a bustin caps, smokin fires
quick to bring it to your a** and keep on goin til your a** die
And it ain't no runnin down dem backstreets
cos I got slugs to catch em with Carl Lewis on the track meet
Huh, and still you wanna test a n***a so
Audi 5, n***a, hate to see ya go but you don't hear me do'
[Chorus]
Yeah, check it!