Lyrics
All that pussy-ass shit, man
Like I won't slap the fuck out of one of you bitch-ass niggas
Fuck be Man, what the fuck really be wrong with you niggas, man
Need to get your motherfuckin' paper right, get your mind right, you broke-ass nigga
Matte black cat hit the light and you can't see me
I got your big brother mad, you wanna be me
We spinnin' back-to-back like it was scratches on a CD
I'm not with all that talkin, bitch, you better get your B.D
I sound aggressive cause today I done got pissed off
These niggas must've lost they place in line, bitch, I'm the big boss
I'm straight to business, I ain't into all that crisscross
I'm doin' five miles in traffic, blow your horn and you get flicked off
I'm in this bitch mad as hell
I'm runnin' through this bitch like I ain't never heard of jail
I got the bond in my pocket, I won't ever hit the cell
I'm sittin' on the porch like it's a game in the mail
I'm gettin anger off my chest, get the money, fuck the rest
I got murder for the hire, all my niggas know is step
I get the oranges down south and I sell them to the west
Since you claimin' you a killer, I'ma put him to the test
I do a hundred if it's asphalt serving feins bath salt
I popped him on the porch with his daddy, drinkin' Mad Dog
Crossing me should be yo last thought, chillin' in a trackhawk
I crush the Percocet inside the blunt, it's time to blast off
I've been chillin' in the shadows like the Batman, doin' evil like the Joker
I won't even leave the house because the state took my blower
Full, empty, full, empty, bank account, be bipolar
Won't make a deal out this shit, I'ma keep this shit Kosher
You want smoke, we have that shit, that how you reach out and coughin
I'm good at countin' money cause I'm gettin' to it often
I'm flickin' off the owner where I go, Steve Austin
I hit the booth startin spazin set a fire like arson
Bitch, huh? I can't be fucked with
Get your face put on top of tee for all that tough shit
A Glock 19 with a switch, we got touched with