"Cos no matter who you are, you're still catchin bullets, god"
[Lord Jamar]
You like to taste the lead, well get your face fed
After I'm done, you rather suck on pencils
Here comes the coroner with chalk for the stencils of your body
As I walk over the shit and spit outta heart
Now brothers talk shit and can't back it
That's why I had to fit em with a full metal jacket
Peel his cap once cos I know it's all it takes
Watch the muthaphucka bawlin, his body catch the shakes (BLAST)
Just before he die, I'ma look him in his eye
Ask the nigga how he figure he was big enough to try
the muthaphuckin G-to the O-to the D
I told ya couple times that the Gods must be crazy
but ya didn't listen, so now ya on a mission
to get an autopsy, a raw C-O, ya can't stops me
Now tell me is there anybody else
before I put my AK back on the shelf
Cos I put in work like Job Corps
Niggas talk shit and get jerked and robbed for
their life by a knife or a gun
So when ya see me comin, nigga, run
"See I had to lick em" "Punk muthaphucka"
"See I had to lick em" "Punk muthaphucka"
"See I had to lick em" "Punk muthaphucka"
"See I had to lick em" "Punk muthaphucka"
"Cos no matter who you are, you're still catchin bullets, god"
*repeat*
[Sadat X]
Somebody's dead, a whole crowd formed
The cops ain't even come yet, Money's dead in the street
Somebody called his people and they come downstairs screamin
Six girls cryin wild cos Money had a child
A good dick, couldn't even stand the .44 lick
Dead quick, the funeral is strictly closed-casket
And ol' Aunt Faith, her baby fingerpaints
