niggas try'n ta get shit on lock ain't got shit but slang talk.//
dawgs all up online say'n shit like "I'm gangsta".//
ya ain't shit but pre-teen prankstas, arrested with mischief and havin' a dime as weight son.//
that ain't weight, me and my boy blunt chop kilos a day.//
a two man cartel runnin' CA, TO, we know how real life works.//
keep it on the DL and not have to release rounds first.//
leave every crew including these B-R-E clowns merked.//
D-R-E sound worked, we got that and east coast beats other mc's seein' dirt.//
like we was heathens cursed, or blessed whatever works.//
rest, never.. we on a constant coke splurge.//
dope burns, but not as hot as our dope words.//
choke words from your verse like a rope turned.//
and tied, bide your time, soon you'll die from the tight wind.//
got you tripped up like a low wire on ya-ankles.//
you just ain't able to put this callibur on the table.//
strangled with our hard flow when it hits.//
like bricks, or rocks, or blunt objects pistol whip guns cocked.//
y'all call yourselves rappers, how come you love rock?//
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