when. i come through. bustin'
everybody on. tha block be. run-nin'
got. them. things. ten up
was taught that it's him or me
your girly's. fuckin' back
represen-tin' cash money. records
i give it to 'em how they ask me
believe i'm 'bout that action
slash a busta like a fraction
standin' on tha corner with one sleeve over my shoulder
i see a dozen of weak jerks
now it's time for your momma ta order a dozen of t-shirts
and i ain't gon' stop shootin' 'til i jam tha clip
but it's about ta get ugly
ya'll betta call people up
i'm about ta start shovin' my sawed-off between your guts
wayne 'bout ta ball people up
all them bustas 'bout ta get killed
i'm thuggin' 'til tha day i. i die
bring tha fire truck in. nigga
i'll come blow up your home
take a few blunts to tha dome
just me and my. flame-torch
walked with my head down like a stranger
leave 'em crawlin' out a ditch
god damn. son of a shhh!. don't speak
no matter what. it. takes
i. was. raised. up on. that. paper
kill-for-the-scrill was. in. my. nature
tote m1's and keep. tha. block. hot
sell wrong colts to keep. my. glock. hot
never add taxes to. my. price
they ain't gon' never get weared out from this one
17th ward to tha 3rd ward downtown