Skills to kill And fill a hole, we roll deep Wit a frown that's down Low in the meddle of jeep beats So I'm makin a point Not stickin butts or blunts But the Terminator X And the rhythm he cuts Figure this bigger brother Gonna trigger the track No I ain't country And my name ain't Zack Step the fuck back Take a look at the racks My world is a ghetto full of tapes and wax CD's they only double the tax And makin money money New York city to lax Tell the suckers suckers Never ever relax I'm kickin in cold facts so true It feels like I'm livin in a zoo
Sayin I'm down like psycho Wheres my rifle? Right though I ain't Michael, yo I ain't sittin on the dock of the bay Wastin time in a crime wit a nine Rather find another brutal rhyme It's us verses, I put it all in verses If the sound reverses I pump it up wit curses Fuck sittin in the back of the bus But don't front what we lack We got it loaded in a back pack See they can do it to a man But wit men suckers semi Think that shit before they come again No science to the wild senile Slackin cause he packin like a Runaway child yeah Would I ever try to sever, hell no Never would work if the Rhyme wasn't clever Wild in an isle Stackin high from the floor tile Back in the rack, where the rap never seen a What I gonna wanna do... Feels like I'm livin in a zoo
I don't know where I'm at Heres a track I try to duck duck Those 3 bullets in the back Top 40 Ignore me Sooooo I him em in the hood Until it feel good
But I'm all right though I wanna fight crazy dirty
It's not a matter of skills But a battle of wills Pow the stick up go the quicker the picker up Trigga eenie meanie
Wit the gatt that so fat Brrap bap bap cop dilla in a 16 wheeler They call me over the phone Che-che-checkin me out Takin my time To find a brother droppin dime Once again it's on In the paint, and I ain't givin up No props to the game And it stops in the name of the hip hop Reign and the pain got me goin Goddamn wont they even pull a Bullet on a pop jam