See I always have respect cause I always talk fact The .38 and the 50 caliber hot, black I always left with nothing but I always brought back I always been a hustler, I probably go off that Y’all don’t wanna go to work with the boy There’s only two words that describe me: search and destroy I don’t think you wanna get murked by the boy My shit is military, y’alls is like a nursery toy It’s hurting you boys My team ain’t even hungry, we famished I murder everybody, fuck collateral damage I’m animal savage with Hannibal’s habits I’ll mangle your cabbage I walked into the parish and I strangled the faggots I hang with the baddest brothers, put their trust into Jesus Run with brothers who’s forty guzzlers, Islamic extremists Ugly and ignorant is how they perceive us I don’t care, I’m trying to deal with my personal demons
[Chorus x 2]
[Verse 2]
Y’all don’t wanna go that route Broke motherfucker need to throw his throwback out If you see me drinking something good I stole that stout If you see me drinking in the hood then roll back out On the real I don’t want no one to bother me, cousin Rapping just a little fucking bit of part of me, cousin I’m just trying to have a drink at the bar with my cousin I ain’t mean to be rude, god, pardon me cousin I stay strapped lord, gun in the tuck Young boys act wild lord funny as fuck I scrap southpaw sonning you fucks Look at you lord on the floor bummy as fuck, what? My life been defined by death So I guess if everybody dead mine is next My father dropped a jewel on me, time forgets It’s not as easily the mind forgets Y’all know what I mean?
[Chorus x 2]
[Verse 3]
Drag you to Hell, I’m evil dead, you can call me Sam Raimi These motherfuckers want a verse but they can’t pay me Fuck a funeral home, put em in the sand maybe Y’all are acting like you’re big, like you’re mad gravy Y’all don’t wanna beef with the god Don’t have the brain power to compete with the god Y’all should retreat from the god before you get turned to meat Something to eat for the god, peace to the gods I carry heavy shit, big guns, John Rambo I’mma spot Russia like Pakistani commandos How you go to war when you’re standing in sandals? Now you’re dead and your family handling candles Don’t even call for a truce, I’m about to end this Whole motherfucker when I call for the troops Reservoir dog walk with the troops And I burn this motherfucker down to the ground down to its roots