[Verse 1] First question for mothaf**ers that's spittin' this "I'ma thug sh**" You claim you blew out a n***a's brain, well what color was it? A) Reddish like the dark shade of oxygenated blood B) Brownish like water that's mixed with dirt to make mud C) Whitish like the man that created the virus to slay us or is it D) Grayish like the gloomy or rainy day is Second question strictly for players so state your biz Tell me exactly what the definition of player is A) Duke that rock links, flossin' the club and pop drinks B) The jail n***a that stash the mop ringers and slop sinks C) The rich rapper who depict the pictures of bigger sixes D) That broke n***a f**in' the richest n***a b**hes Movin' right along, question number three is for the females Never generalizin' I'm into details Other than the fat chicks that's too quick to strip and spread What is it exactly that make a honey a chickenhead? A) If she'll f** her girl man on some shady sh** B) Go to clubs but'll leave her mother to baby sit C) Swap s** for materialistic objects D) All of the above, love, you f**ed up The fourth question's a question that's still in me Who do y'all n***az think that it was that k**ed Biggie? A) Southside Crips cuz Puffy owed 'em a grip B) Some crazy 'Pac fan that flipped and unloaded a clip C) Missiles from pistols from government officials D) The same cat that came back and then sang "I Miss You" [Chorus x2] You never was a k**a; you never bust a gun You never held the spot down; was never on the run You never lived my life; you deadin' it wrong Cuz you never did none of the sh** that you said in your song [Verse 2] With the strength of a hundred baboons I'll beat your eyes black as a f**in' raccoon Leave you covered with stab wounds Dead in a public bathroom You like to tighten your face and cuss when you spit Know what I noticed? That tough sh** is just when you spit I couldn't picture you bustin' a clip I could see you s**in' a dick or prolly getting' f**ed with a stick Drama with me, son, your baby momma will be Found in the woods, hangin' by her thong from a tree You spit my life and want an award But you can't get my stripes cuz you the type to run in a war Slung jums in front of the store; done it before Held guns, I'm talkin' at least a hundred or more Should put a gun to your jaw, to one of your who*es f** under the covers; we all lovers under the floor [Chorus]