Chorus: DJ Paul (x4) It's hard not to kill niggaz It's like and everyday job not to kill niggaz So what's a nigga to do
[Lord Infamous] Me and my nigga had plenty a blunts and we had to get a half G of that Henn I swerved up into the damn liquor store law hides, fucked up, I'm droppin' my yak in the stash pot Forever it took the shit seemed cause the trick most had sweated me full of the D I was searchin' my pockets and then I heard poppin to run out and see that my nigga was bleedin' Is was Indo G and MC Mack and the Lord in bomber Hummer rollin' with the gun and Pat Finna fix these fools up a little snack toss a few Pat, cuz, blow 'em up off the track They was talkin' shit the other day Now the Prophet Posse got and offer now they gonna turn away And the goddamn vomit out the stomach Servin' one, the Scarecrow servin' Henn at the cemetary I was sippin' on the brew, hittin' two true, smokin' on the crew, got a call from the damn fool Said he had the Three 6 held hostage tryin' to get a blood pool spread on the evenin' news Then we round up the squad got The Maf and The Kaz We loadin' up the cars with the hollow tools And we comin on a run through the yard and a nigga gonna knock Triple Six wanna pop it at you Now we've got half way over the back of this four stories 'fore he fall, ten story drop Nigga wanna cross me, better get a sponge to wipe up your mangled-ass body You better bring some danger toys when you fuckin' with the Mafia boys Don't war wit' is we be causin' a scramble We blowed out your candle, and we come out victorious
Chorus: DJ Paul (x4) It's hard not to kill niggaz It's like and everyday job not to kill niggaz So what's a nigga to do
[MC Mack] It's seems that every fuckin' day I seem to dwell more by myself My competitors run, when I cock my gun, I blast 'cause I'm forced to live by my rep My Killa Klan Kaze, like the Nazi's, 'cause we takin' you for hostage MC Mack, ho, be my street name, 'cause I'm cliqued by Prophet Posse You can't stop me so just watch me, left you spooked 'cause I flashed your set Too many muthafuckaz that know my face, but I din't know them, so I sport a vest Don't test my thugs, gon' show no love, remorse ain't in me, don't fuck with scrubs Get shot and robbed, 19 pull the trunk down point beam, dump those buck shot slugs Consist of killaz, cofins fillers, sign your soul to my dotted line Renig your sins and the death in the end Tombstone red, young nigga was blind Tryin' to see me, you can't be me, so just flex on the other directions If the milli miss ya, hollow points'll hit ya, in other words you fuck with no protection Smith and Wesson, go you stressin', tape his mouth up while he's restin' Put them yawk thangs to his dome, when he awakens, bet he with Satan Life was taken, death you facin', hollow points, they got you racin' Caught you slippin', like a magician On your ass, spray this nigga, WHAT'S UP!
Chorus: DJ Paul (x4) It's hard not to kill niggaz It's like and everyday job not to kill niggaz So what's a nigga to do
[DJ Paul & Juicy J adlibs]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
