Intro/Chorus:
Sweatin bullets, watch me pull it on a motherf**er (Wet em up!)
Sweatin bullets, wet a whole clip for the s**ers (Wet em up!)
Sweatin bullets, watch me pull it on a motherf**er (Wet em up!)
Sweatin bullets, if I flip then I'm gonna f** it (Wet em up!)
*repeat*
Verse One: Sadat X
For the next couple of seconds or however long it takes
I'mma hit y'all with somethin far below Christ or nothin
Couldn't get a better deal if this was Vegas
Ain't no cards on the table, just a bottle of Black Label
And a picture of your girl who I said was sweatin bullets
Reach for it, pull it, or we'll always have beef
You'll be scared to walk the streets, sweatin up your sheets
You bought a ticket to Jamaica, I caught you at the airport
Blood spilled on your dome, which funeral dome is da
One preferred, all expenses occurred
To the one who sweats the bullet, slugs, thugs and d**
Or whoever bring it better be able to sing it
Cos the song of a dead man's a sad one
And a family without a son is a mad one
Sweatin bullets and I know you love your family
But Money you can't scare me or when I'm feelin *?melly?*
You could get over but I'mma bring ya back down
Play ya like a clown, from the brother's ringling
Your spine is tinglin, you can't feel your legs
"Will I ever walk to the doctor?" you begs
The hot one shattered your spinal vertebrae
Remember that sh** that you said the other day
They gotcha style with the dead arm
Take the dead aim and flash your name
Chorus
Verse Two: Lord Jamar
I'm sweatin motherf**ers like Jack LeLaine, I packs the pain
I'll rack your brain, leave you in a sack wit your name
Hangin from your toe as I'm bangin your ho
She'll be slangin p**y down in Magic City, bringin me doe
If you don't know it's Lord Jamar from the Nubian set
No matter who the f** you are we're puttin down the sweat
Servin heat on a motherf**er's street
Bullets be dripped whiles a motherf**er trippin
You'll never catch me slippin cos I got my rubber soles
The devils make me sick, I'd love to fill em full of holes
k** em all in the daytime, broad motherf**in daylight
12 o'clock, grab the Glock while waitin for the night
We sweatin motherf**in bullets, and if we break a sweat
That means we'll make ya wet
I'll take your life and jet back to some place cooler
Now Ruler is where my burner gets the fueler
If n***as wanna do I got the hollow point teflon
The kind n***as will vest then get laid to rest on
So n***as bring your best on but I suggest you invest on
A burial plot cos sh** is gettin hot, we're sweatin bullets
Chorus