As I bail through the woods of the southside
Terrors on nine milli chrome kill alone cause I trust no snitch
When I peel a dome and bail

Gone like hell right through the do
I'm rollin' a fat sack of red boogy boo, ^!$$% ooh
Watch me bail ^!$$% but you don't see me though

Cause I'm rollin' fat sacks in the back of my vehicle
But takin' a puff of the dank stuff
and enough that double O-A-E dooz me

I'm slowly loadin' up the oozy
Well now who's he
Well it's that dead mother$#&@er doe

Well whatcha know comin' through with that murder mo
And I heard you know now whose been bustin' up on the garden block
You either give up the information,

^!$$% I get shots, so ^!$$% nah WHAT!
I guess you wanna dose of this milla
Twenty-four shots from that mommas baby killa

^!$$% mack hustla, cap busta, infact I'm just a mack ten
Bustin' em at your chin before I crept ^!$$%
Welcome to your own death


[Chorus x6]
^!$$% welcome to your own death


(BUCK! For them who don't know bout loc to da brain
Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game) [x2]


So ^!$$%s miss my sicc
Some ^!$$%s don't know me, ^!$$%s don't know my click

That O-loc-double-C-O-G rip gut canibal type of %#@!
Plus many more caps bust
Anymore sacks to roll up, we need that high back

So ^!$$%s done load them nins and pull them high jacks
And lie back in the cut and roll another fat one up
Tack one up for loc to the brain

Them ^!$$%s that really don't give a $#&@
Around and get buck, shot it up and dump in a truck and left in a cut
So ^!$$% now whatcha gon do with a mini mack ten ten at yo gut

Plus ^!$$%s nuts and guts is what I rips for
Creepin' up in a six four impala
Mobbin' a loots all up to make you vomit from the raw gut cause

Nah what I do is let my nine do the talkin'
Leavin' you walkin' to your funeral low
Diggin'? yo smoke from the mack 1-0

I had ya pussin' just in case
I got me a mack eleven for your face that's leavin' no trace
Caps leavin' a gate and puttin' holes in a ^!$$%s neck

So watch the reeper when I creep crept
Welcome to your own death


[Chorus x6]

When I hit the block with a nine

Them fools better be duckin'
My ^!$$% duck got out the car and started buckin' at ^!$$%s runnin'
untraceable gage shells

Only worriers goin' to hell
And 5-0 they just can't swoop
See cause we mobbin' too well

My murder file done pile more than a ^!$$% expected
See cause have of the city of Sac still ain't accepted
That I'm a pack and when I'm sweated I'ma put in work

Cause my O-T told me why Jesus got to kick up some dirt
And I'm tired of warnin' a mother$#&@er about a ^!$$% like me
When it's hard to believe

the nine millimeter comin' out my pants gonna make you dance
See that's the city and it's making a mother$#&@er stress
Gotta watch your back like 24-7

unless you wanna be livin' the rest of your life
Up in a cemetery die ^!$$% die you'll repeat until you're buried
That nine millimeter givin' no mother$#&@in' respect

Up on your back with your last breathe
Welcome to your own death


[Chorus x6]