To my niggas in the 2-1-2 and 3-1-0 bitches in the 3-0-5 and 4-0-4 niggas in the 7-1-3 and 2-0-1, 3-1-2, call 9-1-1
[Chorus] It's Sticky Fingaz licken off in hip-hop [x3] Every rhyme I kick is a gunshot
[Verse One] My heart bleeds for you, so don't waste your tears I'm about 175 in dog years My blocks so hot step outside and get sunburned Unless you talking business or money I'm unconcerned I live for now because my days is numbered I got a six shot revolver watch the barrel on my gun turn I'm like an accident just waiting to happen A nigga fuck, my killas in the cut waitin' to clap 'em It's pitiful this game is too politcal critical but let's not talk about the big I's and the little you's Niggas wouldn't be confused if they mind their p's and q's Keep your nose out of mine and I won't have to squeeze the two's And cock the glock, what's that sound? Everybody know Sticky be puttin down So watch out watch out, niggas better clear a path Think I'm scared to blast cause I'm doing flicks on Miramax and New Line fuck security, my bodyguard is my two nines Knew I'd make it big in due time My only lie when my lips move Gun in my crotch my forth leg is a pistol; who wanna get shot? Until I smell 'em for myself I don't believe shit stink robbing niggas for everything but the kitchen sink And all these whack rappers want deals but no can do Labels be like "Don't call us, we'll call you!"
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com [Chorus x2]
[Verse Two] Back in the day Sticky was stickin' niggas and strippin niggas and still getting figures and pistol whippin niggas and flippin niggas I ran with life bidders and ice pickers Now wonder if this life fit us in Vegas with strippin white bitches But that's just a deep thought in the back of my mind I'm Black Trash true to the streets gritty and grime I got a bone to pick a holdster with a shoulder grip concealed inside my leather camoflauge so I can ride notice it? Don't tell nobody, but between me and you I put three in you Add you and ya crew to the M-E-N-U I got bloopers of ya death and I draw it myself Want the job done right you gotta do it yourself My code defending my conscience, my mind afflicted with monsters Kill a nigga over nonsense for five cents You a glutton for punishment, I'm the nigga runnin shit YO BREATH STANK THAT CAUSE YOU BE TALKING A TON OF SHIT! You can't take me out forget about it Killers in front of ya house forget about it Y'all niggas don't want no war forget about it I'll bring it to your front door and you won't do shit about it You need work come see me son I'm taking applications You can't beat me join me save yourself the aggravation You dead if you harm a single hair on my head My payback is going to cost you a arm and a leg
[Chorus x2]
[Outro] Ooo.....
You can run but you can hide when I come it's do or die point your guns to the sky put em up real high