sharks in the water

nobody told me it was in the water

so i'm a fuck around and spit through the water

it's frigidly cold and in the water

and i don't wanna hear when a in the water bitch

one time for my niggaz in the background

two times for my niggaz that don't back down

fuck procedures nigga we gon' do our own thang

that nigga mighty joe young back to loc' again; y'all niggaz better calm down

'fore i give your motherfuckin chest a grand opening

now who's next up to bat? to get clapped

when the heat bang go 'head your brains leakin through your hat

i'm a do it like a g though

nigga you know the steelo

hit with a torpedo

stripped like carlito

hit yo' ass in broad daylight like mark chapman

did john lennon from the beatles

here's a fresh tuxedo

get tucked 6 feet below

you get greeted with roses

and obituary cards for your people

you don't wanna know what the fuck that's like

now you know you done fucked up right?

i got that old fame back

chrome thang strapped

home team strapped

and this whole thang for the home team map

yes sir

f'realla

buck buck

f'realla

blam blam

cap pealer motherfucker

blood spiller

fuck procedures nigga

i do my own shit

you saw what g's i run with

i spit my own clips

i get my own chips

i make my own hits

i chrome my own 6

i bought my own bitch

i'm on my own dick! in my opinion

ain't nobody fuckin with danze the man's sick and

shake your pom poms

and protest up out

who you niggaz feel is the best; me i'm a stomp on!

so one time for my niggaz in the background

from the door the treacherous nigga we back down

i'm anxious to see how you motherfuckers act now

vroom vroom vroom vroom. how does that sound?

crucial! hot e's through your p's

with some

shit up my sleeves that'll put you at ease

it's the world famous m.o.p. we rugged rough sayin

m.o.p. we gon' do our own thang

shit i'm back where tupac fell off the roof

i got the +juice+ niggaro

you man whore fuck bitch

+deuce bigalow+

you ain't a she or a he

you a shit rewind

when fame spit it

you ain't fuckin with him

shit

i'll be around

you can find me where the dogs be at

with more motherfuckin machines than a laundromat

once again from the hilltops

it's your boy bill and boy do the boy bill rock

the homey's so real

the true school'll pass over

any one of you fake slitherin ass cobras

send every one of them snakes and i'll rattle 'em soldier

and knock potholes in your rover

you vulture