Текст песни
And here comes number thirteen, Mr. Alt
Coming from the 3 point line right now
Oh, shit, that nigga's dead (oh my fucking god, nigga)
He keep talkin' out his neck
He gon' meet that fuckin' ahh
We gon' kick your door
One, two, three, and four
You hear that rahhhh
Murder what she wrote
Saw him in the scope, I'm 'bouta rahhhh
Front page of the post
He ain't get a note, that nigga died
Knock up at your door
Let me in, bitch, I'm gon' need that neck
Fuck he talking for?
Stay up on that bench, don't get pressed
I might take your ho, give and go, pass her to my left
And that fire I tote, lethal weapon
It rip through your chest
Heard she got a big ol' booty
Told that bitch to make it bounce
I'ma get up in that coochie
Kill that cat and dog her out
They gon' arf when I arf
'Cause they know what I'm about
Shit get wicked on this side, I suggest a different route
Hold the fuck up, nigga (ahh)
Hold the fuck up, nigga
Steps in this bitch
Break necks in this bitch
Kel-Tec in this bitch
Shout out X in this bitch
Give a fuck about your vest
We aim for heads in this bitch
I say, yeah, trick, yeah
I'm the best in this bitch