(Intro: Spice 1) One eighty seven, the one eighty seven The one eighty seven, the one eighty seven BLAOW!! One eighty seven, the one eighty seven, the one eighty seven The one eighty seven, the one eighty seven One eighty seven, the one eighty seven, the one eighty seven The one eighty seven, the one eighty seven One eighty seven, the one eighty seven, the one eighty seven The one eighty seven (Spice 1) Gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta, gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gangsta Gi-gi-da gi-gi-da gat that a** if I don't shank ya Glock shooter, dumpin' 'em up in ditches Givin' them n***as stitches, smokin' them with the peoples Cause a - ain't no love see I'm just a G With twin Glocks on my side you can't f** with me Once again they come at me with that same old sh** Got to show 'em, let 'em know I'm not no punk a** b**h Ready to pop them blood clot and let him feel hostile S-P-I-C-E comin', we gettin' hard to k** So sit your a** down don't you flinch one inch Hollerin' at you with this twelve gauge under my trench Got a whole live bury full of Smith-N-Wesson Servin' your a** like salad dressin' So prepare to catch a hot slug, from a O.G. thug Leavin' your bloody body in the mud (Chorus: Spice 1) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) (Spice 1) Thought you was my n***a but you set me up Tried to shut me up, tried to wet me, tried to wet me up Now I gotta twist your snapple, k** sh** up and gaffle Put a worm hole in your rotten apple Time for confrontation, and I know this Ex-drive through won't give me your exact location So don't be sleepin', cause I'm gon' be creepin' Cleanin' sh** up, straight street sweepin' My destination ain't too far As I smobs in my rag top gangsta car To come and get ya, I'm drinkin' Red Rum Don't need a damn thing for the chase cause I likes to taste One eight seven artist, play your a** like a Sega punches Back in the game, knockin' out teeths' Blowin' motherf**ers in Teresa's pieces (Chorus: Spice 1) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) (Spice 1) Me erupt this rust clot with my f-a-fo'-five, don't wanna see me take no lives Play with the funk, open up your trunk see who survives I'm servin' the murder by the pound, a hundred and fifty rounds Shake 'em up like Gin & Juice then guzzle 'em down They claimin' this O.G. is a has been But I'll be damned if I let these Busta's think that I won't pull out my mac again We can all talk, it ain't no thing to bust Leavin' your flesh lookin' like it's melted as I raise up outta the cut Mad man k**er, feel me on the realer Wouldn't bullsh** ya homie I'mma cap filler Ready to handle my business Wrappin' it all in my clip blowin' n***as outta eight story windows and sh** So keep your hammer co*ked and keep a close watch For the nine millimeter and a n***a that's makin' your place look stocked Peel a cap for the funk he did that's smokin' on this BT n***as pop at my shadow cause these busta's can't see me (Chorus: Spice 1) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!) Busta's can't see me my uzi goes bang! (SHAME!!)