( VERSE 1: Buckshot Shorty ) Somebody call the morgue, I just caught a DOA Two to the head, I shot the b**h in broad day No joke, I smoke gunshots you heard from blocks and blocks I bust Mac-10s, oo-wops and Glocks sh**, k**in every n***a in sight Bust a cap and crack a joke over your grave like Dolemite Cause I'm a sick-a** n***a with no brains Burst in flames, turn the mic into blood stains Any thought I think, you blink and drink d**h So I rip the mic and pat my n***a to the left 5ft. Excellerator, greater than your crew Bring in your whole mob, muthaf**a, you're still through Yo n***a, where's my four-fifth? I got more riff for any p**y n***as who forfeit Bring it on, what, I got no shame Buckshot's in the house and you know my name ( CHORUS ) n***as talk sh** but that ain't my steel' n***as talk sh** but that ain't my steel' n***as talk sh** but that ain't my steel' I'm the type of n***a to put lead in your grill ( VERSE 2: Buckshot Shorty ) Slow it down one pitch for that hoe with the lick Pa** the automatic, I'm about to flip And spray n***as with my vocal (? ) Lead to the chest penetrate through the vest And when I roll mad deep n***as back off f**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 muthaf**in arrow and I play Rambo When I shoot the crossbow inside the hoe And her n***a, 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 ( CHORUS ) ( VERSE 3: Buckshot Shorty ) Watch your mouth, n***a, I heard you're talkin mad sh** 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 f** back or feel the heat from my gat Buckshot Shorty, see, I always stay strapped With the nickel nine on my muthaf**in waistline b**h, you know my name, bring it in ( CHORUS )