Hey yo I plan to be a billionaire, God forgive me for my evil For doing really fucked up things to good people I rob a rich man, try to make the world equal To buy my moms a crib dawg, I’m down to hurt people I got ten pounds of shrooms on my kitchen table Just sniffed an eight ball out my bitch’s navel Satellite dish, watch the Exorcist on cable Compare what I do to the evil that they do I save you like Jesus and them latterday saints, splatter their brains Take their platinum chains and their Charlie Brown leather straight Let me get that, Psychological Records death rap Necrodamus make the best tracks My music make you want to sell crack I turn invisible and breeze through I rob drug dealers just like DT’s do And body DT’s same as drug dealers do So fuck feeling you, I’d rather bust three in you Exploding school buses, Jews, Muslims, Christians What the fuck’s the difference? We all want money, drugs, and bitches Let’s keep it real, even television’s a drug If weed is a drug the Green Lantern CD is a drug I speaks in tongues, my peeps is all thieves and thugs Creeps with guns, Crips, Latin Kings, and Bloods We generous with the heat but we cheap with love Arrest me? Never that, the police is dumb I was born to die, walk around high This piece of shit planet got my mind designed to rhyme about the madness Closed caskets, prostitutes and crack heads We battle much, respect the cash gets, been a savage ever since Read a lot of books, threw a lot of right hooks, stuck up a lot of crooks I represent Brooklyn when I’m out the hood Now the whole world’s captivated, gang related See me in my video being assassinated I’m like the seventies where everybody sniff coke Slit throats, spit quotes, expensive like mink coats Why I’m so fucked up only my shrink knows Dr. Tenenbaum, a small guy with a big nose I’ve seen it all in my short life, me and my peeps is all trife If we ain’t sticking your moms then we fucking your wife If it ain’t weed in my blunts then there’s dust in my pipe If it ain’t slugs in my guns then there’s blood on my knife I put you to sleep, now you just a cousin of life Ill Bill motherfucker make you jump in a fight This is for the streets, I could give a fuck what you like Even my freestyles could fuck up any shit that you write