Who Ya Gonna Shoot Wit That

(I am pleased, to have the opportunity to discuss, your new gun with you)

I heard you had beef on your block

So you bought you a Glock, the one with the 17 shots

Nicknamed Smith & Wesson

Gonna teach them punks on your blocks a little lesson

But, who you gon' shoot with that, homey?

You'd rather blast an original instead of a phony

Chewin' macaroni, you don't even know me

And why does your gun say, 'Niggas only'?

But you need to get an angle on an anglo

I mean shoot your bucks at the Ku Klux

Got your gat, but you ain't thinkin' of 'em

'Cause deep inside, I know you love 'em

Point your gat at me and I'll blast ya

But first I gotta ask ya

Fool, who you talkin' to?

What you gotta ask me?

But first I gotta ask ya

Who ya gonna, who ya gonna shoot wit that, punk?

Who ya gonna, shoot wit that, punk?

Who ya gonna, who ya gonna shoot wit that, punk?

Yo man, wassup with the jack move fool?

I ain't got no money man!

What you aimin' that pistol at me for man?

Ay man, why don't you go on with that?

Go up to Beverly Hills or somethin'

I'm drivin' down the street, and I ain't got much more than you

But you still wanna jack for my six-two

Impala, it's all about the dollar

You claim you're gonna bust if I holler

Don't say nuttin as I jump out

But why you gotta blast me, before you stomp out?

Start runnin' cause I'm terrified

Two shots from his gat made me realize

You woulda let me through if I was a caucasian

A jew or an asian

But I see you wanna do me, do me

Is it 'cause, I'm black as you be?

Don't talk about a rep to me

'Cause deep inside, I know you're white as a deputy

Sold my car and bought a brand new gat

Punk, but who you gon' shoot with that?

Who ya gonna, who ya gonna shoot wit that, punk?

Who ya gonna, shoot wit that, punk?

Who ya gonna, who ya gonna shoot wit that, punk?

I hope they find your ass dead in a trunk!

(I am pleased, to have the opportunity to discuss, your new gun with you)

Ay yo, man, I just got jacked, man

They always talkin' that black on black crime, man

I'm fin' to go put in some work, man

(I am pleased, to have the opportunity to discuss, your new gun with you)

Now it's time to trip

This fool done caught me slippin' and he jacked me

I'm off to the house to take my pistol and my khakis

Never ever thought I would get, got

So I grabbed the fo'-fo' with the thirteen shots

Hunted him down like an animal

Caught his ass slippin' with a skanless hoe

I crept up behind him, put my hands around his mouth

Fo'-fo' to the dome, yo punk we breakin' out

I ducked in the alley off the boulevard

Jumped in the back, trailed by one car

I'm thinkin' to myself I can't kill him he's a brother

Even though he keeps robbin', and stealin' from my mother

He's lookin' in my eyes, he's gazin' at my gat

And then he said, "Who you gon' shoot with..."

(Sit Boo-Boo, sit)