Lyrics
Anyting test man, mi clean fi mi gun
Anyting test man, mi clean fi mi gun
Anyting test man, mi clean fi mi gun
Anyting test man, mi clean fi mi gun
Anyting test man, mi clean fi mi gun
Anyting test man, mi clean fi mi gun
Anyting test man, mi clean fi mi gun
Anyting test man, mi clean fi mi gun
Here we go, break of day, with a mad lye session
Down in Bucktown it's Black Moon, and Smif-N-Wessun
Pick up the pace 'cause we're right behind ya black
The punk got X-amount of shots, take one to your back
BOO-YAA-KAA! Mr. Ripper did the shooting
Cops heard the shots, shit's hot 'cause they're pursuing
But it's my stomping ground where herds get blown down
Think I'm getting caught by beasts you's a damn clown
Check the drums of death as I break what's left
Of your face, 'cause you're sellin' out the rap race
Your family cried as your body lies in its casket
I keep a black Smith-and-Wessun in my Polo jacket
Sixteen shots, for all you hardrocks
And if your bitch is a dime she can get the cock
Straight up and down, we two terrible toughies
The Vickster hit your pockets then I made your eyes puffy
What pussy? Better drop your mic and get to steppin
Before you're face to face with a black Smith-and-Wessun
Load the clip, bust lead to the head
The nappy head dread, Buckshot and Baldhead
Load the clip, bust lead to the head
The nappy head dread, Buckshot and Baldhead
Load the clip, bust lead to the head
The nappy head dread, Buckshot and Baldhead
Load the clip, bust lead to the head
The nappy head dread, Buckshot and Baldhead
Real niggas represent and don't die
Never dead like I said all we fuckin do is multiply
I puff a mad bag of buddha
Niggas be like "Yo who the shorty?"
I'm bustin' niggas with my six-shooter
I get so much pussy my dick be in stitches
Red-boned or even fucked-up black Zulu bitches
What? This lil nigga is a mad stalker