ready or not here we come
here comes trouble in the club
how the fuck we sneak in with this many heaters in our jeans
a peace and they dont even see us
some shit pops off we squeeze each one they gon' think its machine guns
hands around our colt handles
hold them like roman candles
who come back all bananas
bouncers and the club owners
the motherfuckers dont want us
to come up and rush in the club and run up in it with a bunch of
motherfuckers from runyan
steady poppin them onions
prepare to tear the whole club up
fixin to get into some shit just itchin to choke someone up
you know we finna loc'n when we mix coke with coke and nut rum up
see my people throw shit up
see you talk that hoe shit now when you down and wont get up
and can't sit up your so slit up
the ambulance wont sew you up
they just throw you up in the trunk once they tag your big toe up
mac or no mac it dont matter if i have or dont have it
you never know what im packin' so you just dont want no static
and open up a whole can of whoop ass you dont wanna chance to
really homie dont be silly
homie you dont know me really
you're just gonna make yourself dizzy wonderin what the dealy
fuck it lets just get busy d twizzys back up in the hizzy!
it's d12 is back up in this bitch
we're gonna get it crackalatin
what you waitin for the wait is over
say no more fo tryin to play the wall and quit hatin
what the fuck is you deaf
you motherfuckers dont listen
we bout to get this motherfucker crackalatin'
what the fuck you waitin for get off the wall and quit hatin
i keep a shit load of bullets a pitbull to pull it out
and automatically explode on motherfuckers until they mouth be closed permanently
you get burned until i quickly you can not hit me niggas to terrified to come get me
tempt me if you think swifty won't send a slug
when the reaper comes the repercussions gon' equal blood. inglewood
steepin' without a weapon
i'm still runnin' with stolen toasters while on parole
like eviction notices hoe
i'm known to never leave witnesses to roam
i'll write the wicked in scroll
when i'm sober i'm prone to roll up and disconnect your soul
nigga. now it's proven it's about to be a misunderstanding
cause niggas don't know the difference
you bitches just stick to fiction
you can't even walk in my jurisdiction rippin' it
grippin' the pump and who wanna fuck with a walking psychopathic
pyromaniac shady cats with 80 gats
and maybe thats the reason that you gon' get it the worst
and since you jumpin' in front of everybody you gon' get it first
i dispurse the crowd with something vigor and versatile
so go on and record you verses now while you got a mouth
kunizzle will lift up a 12 gizzle and throw a party from my equittle
and a glock that you stop you from waking
bullets'll hit your liver
i'll even shoot native americans
we back in you life and back in your wife
hit you in the back with a knife and get it crackin' tonight.