(Lynch): Feel my nature rise, blood shot red eyes Waitin' in your back seat, catch you by surprise Situations and circumstances make you take them dangerous chances Leave you in your front seat with your neck slit, then I'm hittin' fences Now I'mma talk about the same dirty situation sh** you hatin', that's why your casket is waitin' Shine your a** up like a triple gold Dayton When I'm in your town you better cut like Walter Payton Studio man keep tapin', I got that b**h, she peratratin' Show your whole family, leave you on your front porch hangin' With a note that's saying: 'sincerely, Swartzan***az' Put your hands in your pocket, give it up I demand I need my tweed, potent refer, man Bandstandin' with the hand cannon Split my face, muthaf**a, gimme your scrill And that Rolex in your hand, understand? Yeah, you gots to feel my nature rise (Swartzan***az): I can feel my nature rise Starin' at the marks that I despise Through evil eyes, high style thoughts turn homicides You gots to die, for tryna ride and get me Got some off, but none of them hit me Now on a payback tip, with a patched black mask On the gra** with a 50 caliber weapon Hangin' up over the door of the Chev and causin' slaughter Sid's Malt Liquor be that motive when I be loaded off that water Saw the situation heavy rollin' Shotgun and a Chevy that's stolen Strapped up and ready in case these n***as wanna get deadly We can go there, I know there's a place for busta n***as like ya'll But I heard it's pretty deep down so you n***as better watch your fall Too late for that 911 call, this murder's already in progress Home invasions like Asian got me obsessed like a Vietnam vet As I kick through the front door, blastin' And Lynch kicked down the back Operation: Peel-a-cap, you fools shoulda already had your gats loaded Cuz it ain't no tellin' when we comin' Back streets, sacs of weed get blazed as we gunnin' with the engine still Runnin' Cuz real k**ers make them real quick get aways Spray the whole place and skirt As quick as we can, we does our dirt Whoever gets hurt, that's business So please don't take this personal It's just that murder's in my nature So four years now, that's what I've been searchin' for Cuz doin' dirt grows old when it's the same old thing That's why I try to take my murders to the highest extreme Make everybody scream, open up some spleens Still hearin' the blood spillin' It's just a little dream that I be havin' Man, I love k**in'
(Brotha Lynch): I got a hard dick for k**in' Southside villain Protect your wife and your children Feel my nature rise (Swartzan***az): Not quite knowin' about this n***a? Check your metro sections Then cross reference murders by streets and dates And how many times n***as' hoes' got raped Mr. No Prints, the reason one time runs out of yellow tape f**in' with a half deck, havin' n***as on hush Smokin' a bowl that I re-dust Open up your chest when I bust So suit up, cuz it's k** a n***a night Ain't no tellin' when Triple 6 gets to shootin' up Movin' up your d**h date, with a Tre-8 special It's way too late to wrestle, as I nestle the sword stoppers Split your a** open like pinata Loadin' up like a Rotweiler Lining up like Tyson snortin' c**aine powder Pure dank sniffer, some like a lot of fluid, but I beg to differ One wiff of that sh** and I'm on cloud nine n***a, don't trip if you ain't got no nuts Cuz I brought mine all buffed and shined Untouchable when I'm f**in' full of that nitrate wine That's when I bust on nineteen times and up Cuz I'm nuts, goin' out my mind Few, there's no luck, you f**ed for life, for sho' Get your a** up on the floor Tryin' to catch me at that lateral, slippin' By my lonesome, but I'm on some, so who wants some? Fresh out the gates, ain't no room to make mistakes Try to make my tapes, but I feel the ho hate Tuck my dick inside in the O-8 Must of been the way the clip mate with the .45 No body, no case Taste the meat, can't wait to eat Keep the street dirty, keep sturdy in your face (Swartzan***az): Ya'll n***as don't wanna feel my nature rise Cuz I get dirty, shoot up sh** with my Clint Eastwood Leave your neighborhood lookin' like a ghost town, n***a You standin' on dangerous grounds When we come to Sac, better have your automatics on loaded status Cuz me and my n***as be on the savage, leavin' no prints Not givin' ya'll n***as a inch, cuz I'mma lynch you Fry your guts like Sizziline Have your homie reminiscing' about your gangsta lean n***a, it ain't no f**in' with my clique You can dial 911, but it ain't no rescue Man, I hope the dear Lord bless you Next to this n***a, ain't no one's nuts bigger Clutch your guts n***a, f**in' with this Swartzan***a Cuz I done lost it, taggin' n***as like a pit bull with rabies Gone off 40 ounces of O.E Creepin' up on you, like doin' my Magnum P.I Lazy Eye with Lil' Blacc Mile Smokin' a hard dick for k**in'