[Verse 1] God, the original black man Sean, the criminal gat, blam Real n***as lick shots, peace Connecticut Beat etiquette is [?] speech impediment Your bars delicate Gentle cycle,, nobody don't like you Politely the knife strike you Scarred in the yard That's what the God kites do Beat box is spittin' Keep shot, P pop, you keep locked in friction I let Bernadette punch you Without a concern cause you heard what the vet gun do Burn into your face Ruck is crazy Murder was the case that they gave P You was never hot Assa**inate your dream to a King and Coretta Scott