Текст песни
Feel the vibration till he can split open.
Midichlorian overdosing on my dosage.
I put that hip-hop soul in a wave, and niggas rode it.
I'm chosen—I terrorize cities with no motive.
Winners, sad times, and bad news.
Forty in one hand and another forty with bad dudes.
Ruler of the land—this money follow the cash rules.
Had to drive to West Side because I had to.
I'm on that kill records—rob producers for all they have.
Free-for-all, fuck all them niggas, these niggas ass.
Jake Lockley—spin on a nigga inside a cab.
I'll really lap around just to kill the nigga in last.
I got soul, nigga. A flow, nigga—I got patented.
And dough, nigga. Some Cho, nigga—and it's padded.
Only the slow niggas could think this shit's magic.
Even the hoes say this shit fake and they plastic.
Yo, I'm holding the saber of misdirection.
Juyo style—a variant of my profession.
Bars kill shit like I'm carrying a lethal weapon.
Better think fast 'fore I stick it in your intestine.
Baby, I'm a Jedi Master—tech tackle.
Raise straight hell—my dogs, my niggas jackals.
Chess game, Jedi Knight in my castle.
West Side hell-raiser music, and fuck the tassels.
Niggas tote a blaster around like shit is normal.
Keep on talking shit on a nigga like you immortal.
Tryna sell a 0.5 and going global.
Poke a fucking sword through your chest like Miyamoto.
Since 13, shit ain't changed—my word's bond.
Fear of backstabbing—I'm cutting off niggas' arms.
Gold record songs whenever I'm in the field.
Streets hot—somebody's head gon' get peeled.