bang bang time it's bang time
bang bang time it's bang time
bang bang time it's bang time
bang bang time it's bang time
bang bang time it's bang time
bang bang time it's bang time
to the east my brother like a x-clan member
sissy! lil' fame is a marxmen
i'm the son of sonny carson
i wash dirty cats through hood laundromats
go home or go hard yeah this is real life warrior shit
these other rap dudes corny as shit
what'chall know about sidewalks with bloodstains
+cold as ice+ on some foreigner shit
dark skies to early mornings
what's a nickel bag to a profit/prophet
'round here we keeps it thuggy thuggy
we'll shoot this bitch up like cowboys and indians
45'll hit 'em and leave 'em with hang time
raised on his ass like the glass of a line
your man's frame is dyin from the flame of the iron
now better kneel with him
that if you try to stand up his fuckin guts gon' spill on him
only question i ask is cash or a check involved
let me know if death's involved
yeah i pull the trigger quick
thought you woulda figured this
you want to know why the movement is rigorous
somewhere in is where you'll find this nigga
semi circled by the grimiest niggaz
in the field where the real niggaz are born
we don't cut up body parts
we blast and leave yo' ass wherever it start
a half a block from the precinct
the homies are beyond thuggin and buggin
my whole borough's in judgment indecent
the thoroughest dimepieces straight out of action flicks
to get what you gotta get to get your shit rollin
the 50 cal the 40 or the 30 carbine
let it steam motherfucker let's go
and on the grounds with it we down with it