[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*)