[Skit] "Dirty how it look?" "Dadadana, like a damn snitch." ("Oh man that's cold.") "Look like you 'bout ready to go tell on somebody right damn now." (*laughing*) (*50 Cent's "wa*ksta" beat*) [Black Child - talking] (*echo*) Word to God, f**in snitch a** n***a 50 Cent f** is wrong with you n***a? Actin like you Ferrari n***a, you can't never be me Boy (uh huh), cause [Hook] You a snitch n***a you ain't gonna pop nothin Pay a n***a to do it, so you could tell the cops somethin 187 your "Unit", Hector Lynn and Cotch dumpin You hear the shots comin (*gunshots*) (five, 0), start runnin [Verse 1] You knew I was comin, dumpin, who wanted a hundred rounds Didn't I stab you up?, don't make me gun you down Your whole career's nothin, but a publicity stunt Until I k** you and give you the publicity you want Yeah front page, rapper that's over paided Found under the stage, felt thunder from the gauge n***a I got women that do the evil men do They got more heart than you and want no parts of you You hit chickens I used to, I f** b**hes that use you And lose you, for the loot, big fists from Hooptie n***a you say you a gangsta, but we don't believe you I come through 134 and don't see you Pull up in somethin tinted, nothin rented Pull out the Mack 10 and dump everythin in it And ain't no witnesses, witnessin sh** Except for the four fifth and you on the floor stiff (uh huh)
wa*ksta [Hook] - w/ ad libs [Verse 2] k**in to do 'fore I die and I ain't got bullets to waste Shot this n***a in the face How you call yourself Ferrari?, you don't ride like me In the hood, everyday "Ready To Die" like me How does f*ggot n***a do a song with B.I.G.? When he the snitch of the city, I'ma have to talk to Diddy Fifty I had a knife, you had a gun You ain't pop one shot, poked you, you called 911 What you know about AK's and AR 15's? Nothin n***a, you up in the preacher at the 113 Damn homie, you a b**h, you a snitch On your man homie, what the f** wrong with you? I got a fourth and Beretta that says revenge is better Put holes through your leather, they have to sew you back together Black could never chirp like that bird to the cops He got a camera is his drawers and a mic is his watch (uh huh) p**y [Hook] [Black Child - talking] (*echo*) Word to God you f**in f*ggot Keep playing games, go 'head drop your f**in album I did, I'ma drop mine And I'ma do a f**in interview with the f**in arrestin officer n***a Don't keep playin games man f**in Officer William Fitzgerald from the two thirty-four n***a On 54th Street n***a, you know Stop f**in playin games, actin like you don't know what happened n***a (*gunshots*) Word to God, this Black Child too n***a Black Child a.k.a. Ferrari Black n***a It's Murder, f*ggot p**y, p**y (*gunshots*)