Somebody call the morgue, I just caught a DOA
Two to the head, I shot the (*##$ in broad day

No joke, I smoke gunshots you heard from blocks and blocks
I bust Mac-10s, oo-wops and Glocks
%#@!, killin every ^!$$% in sight

Bust a cap and crack a joke over your grave like Dolemite
Cause I'm a sick-ass ^!$$% with no brains
Burst in flames, turn the mic into blood stains

Any thought I think, you blink and drink death
So I rip the mic and pat my ^!$$% to the left
5ft. Excellerator, greater than your crew

Bring in your whole mob, mutha$#&@a, you're still through
Yo ^!$$%, where's my four-fifth?
I got more riff for any #~!!@ ^!$$%s who forfeit

Bring it on, what, I got no shame
Buckshot's in the house and you know my name



^!$$%s talk %#@! but that ain't my steel'
^!$$%s talk %#@! but that ain't my steel'

^!$$%s talk %#@! but that ain't my steel'
I'm the type of ^!$$% to put lead in your grill



Slow it down one pitch for that hoe with the lick
Pass the automatic, I'm about to flip

And spray ^!$$%s with my vocal ( ? )
Lead to the chest penetrate through the vest
And when I roll mad deep ^!$$%s back off

$#&@in with Buckshot it's blood you cough
I don't laugh or joke, I never choke on a blunt


But I chocke a stunt if it's beef she want
So bring the mutha$#&@in arrow and I play Rambo
When I shoot the crossbow inside the hoe

And her ^!$$%, triggers I'm addicted to
Like angel dust I bust holes in your crew
You're wack, face the fact, you're all on my jock

Till the ehm tic-toc, I don't pop
So yo make way so I can make my day
I'm fonky but you're Pepe Le Pew






Watch your mouth, ^!$$%, I heard you're talkin mad %#@!
If you're really on my dick, bend, take a lick

Here's your choice cause my voice'll break backbones and necks
Who's next to flex and feel the wrath of my tec
I spray, no delay, more jabs than Sugar Ray

I murder then I drop dead bodies in the lake
Beats with mad funk, pop the trunk
Play my tape while you lay back, puff the skunk

I'm no joke, I flip the script like De Niro
I'm a full-course meal, you're a one-dollar Hero
I'm sorta like the mob when I get a job done

Contracts and all that, guns, guns
So stay the $#&@ back or feel the heat from my gat
Buckshot Shorty, see, I always stay strapped

With the nickel nine on my mutha$#&@in waistline
(*##$, you know my name, bring it in