[MC Hawking]
Ah-yuh
That's right motherfuckers
I'm back, driving a funky track
I've got a story to tell you all, so listen up
You'll trip on this
I'm rollin' through the hood on Saturday night
Got a 40 in my left hand, dick in my right
Some Cronk in my left, pager in my hat
And a 9 millimeter in the small of my back
I'm just chilling, no place to be
I take another pill off my 40-Z
I'm thinking about skimming from MSB
A B- to the L- to the -U-N-T
Then I get a call on my dope cell phone
Check the call ID - "What up homes"
Yo it's the Doom and his news ain't good
[Doomsday]
Little Pookie got capped last night in the hood
[MC Hawking]
I feel like the world is fading away
I saw Little Pookie just the other day
Pookie was my boy, we shared Kool-Aid in the park
Now some punks took his life in the dark
I asked Doomsday who the motherfuckers be
[Doomsday]
Some punk-ass bitches from M.I.T
[MC Hawking]
The fucking Institute! Man I should have known
I say "Meet me at my crib" and hang up the phone
Playtime's over, I've got a job to do
And the world will be less crowded by the time I'm through
And I'll keep rolling while bullets slide
'cause all my shootin's be drive-bys
[Chorus]
(Drive-bys) (drive-by)
(drive-by) (Drive-bys)
[MC Hawking]
One minute to midnight, we hit the street
Cold as a cadaver, hard as concrete
Doomsday's packing, the Baby Mac
Got my AK-47 and the Nine in my back
The Alpine's flowing, PE's blowing
Got my swerve untied, and my game face showing
Them damn punks are gonna pay
The Hawk's on the case, the Bird of Prey
Then up ahead, cold chilling in the street
Six motherfuckers from M.I.T.
I flick off my safety, check my grip
And load - a dum-dum clip
I glance at the Doom-Doom, make sure he's packed
