Pshhhh pshhhh
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Uhh
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[repeat 3x]
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[Verse 1]
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Ohh you rhyme witta slug and sum shots in his face
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He rhyme witta slug tryna sound like ma$e
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Listened to his tape, this lil' nigga used to sound like cake
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Maybe I'm juss killin, maybe he juss snitchin
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See a whole lot different from my cell in Clinton
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What I see is straight bug, straight girl
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Yea he be a killa, you kill wit words
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Rather look at the facts not the hype
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Like who got shot and who got knifed
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Who keep gettin struck, but don't neva strike
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Hope the beef go away but the feds indict
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I know yo card nigga, it's so clear
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You juss wanna sell record you don't want warfare
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You don't wanna ride you wanna get rich and hide
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These niggaz would've died if they shot me nine times
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Heyy it's juss for the best
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Take this mob shit serious, please respect it
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[Hook]
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And there go the shots stay rippin 'em apart
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Cuz it's a blood comin outta his slum
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It's murdah bloody homicide is what they cry
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When they losin' their life
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When muhfuckaz ask me how I sleep at night
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Pretty good witta a slug and my heat held tight
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Pray to god while I'm gone, is what underneath feels like
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It's my work by the surf when they turn off the lights
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[Verse 2]
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You ain't kill humma 'cause if you did
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Why you ain't get the pen after all of that hit
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You know I know, that if you live
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That shit that you spit, somebody got somebody
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Somebody got jumped, somebody got cut
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Yoo pac's a nigga, nobody got shot
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Nobody got flushed, you screamin what what
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Okay okay killa you'sa slut
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Think about it, enoughs enoughs
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I'm tryna show 'em whoes who
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And what is what
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I mean how can I respect you
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When them niggaz that left you ain't none of 'em blessed you
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(not nobody)
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You know where they are, where they perform
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Bust yo gun, stop makin songs
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Please no more ghetto quran
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You got money now it's time to bomb
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And that's juss fo the top
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Take this mob shit seriouse please respect it
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And there go the shots stay rippin 'em apart [2x]
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Cuz it's a blood comin outta his slum
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[Verse 3]
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Death of perfection as I move witout motion
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Ain't no nigga in his game doin the shit that I'm quotin'
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Take a good look 'cause you'll neva a see enought of me
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Might be sum otha g's tryna trace n color me
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But I believe in the ways of old
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Slice these niggaz throat tryna tell on po
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That shouldn't excist, fuckin snitch
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Cut of his dick, put it on his lips
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You really think I was gon' let you slide
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Fuckin wit me you must be outcho mind
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You really think jail was gon' make thinks right
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Nigga I will shoot you till you lose yo life
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I was mindin' my own, word got back, niggaz talkin bout po
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I was like ohh, god must be ready fo this nigga to go
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Gang Land, this is the mob
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You got yo break come finish yo job
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Juss don't get the feds involved
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And I'mma reunite you wit yo moms
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Rip
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I guess this ain't juss music
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Cuz jail only made me much mo' ruthless (nigga)
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And the bitch nigga knew this
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That's why he tryed to sign me to g-unit
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Tell 'em how you made me offers
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(I don't want that blood I'mma godfather)
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Loved on every street corner
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Hurts yo heart that you don't get that honor
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The feds I paid fo that
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10 years up top
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Not seven months shock
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Walked the yard wit bloods
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Took the bus wit cuz
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Went gun fo gun
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I earned my lug
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You, you juss pathetic
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You neva bg, bespite yo average
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Take this mob shit serioue, you gon' respect it
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Tha's juss fo the record
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[Hook]
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And there go the shots stay rippin 'em apart
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Cuz it's a blood comin outta his slum
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It's murdah bloody homicide is what they cry
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When they losin' their life
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When muhfuckaz ax me how I sleep at night
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Pretty good witta a slug and my heat held tight
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Pray to god while I'm gone, is what underneath feels like
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It's my work by the surf when they turn off the light
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-----------------
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For The Record
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| Shyne |
