[Intro: Popcaan]
Yeah
MAC-11 'pon me front seat
Anywhere you duppy there, the killy them a come f'it
From me send Skilli, trouble there a them feet
Boy head a fi go buss, it could a tough like concrete
Ratchet up the 'matic, a crime a complete
'Pon the drive-by, a full a designer man beat
You see it?
Trouble! Foot! Feet!
And me a pull up with a rocket launcher (Weh!)
I let her ride the dick just like a Honda (Yuh fu*k)
And when me leave the house I bring the chopper (Boop)
Me a rider with a rocket launcher (Psycho business!)
Fire me gun and make it rocket launch
Me knock it off, somebody face dropping off
Yeah me buss them head and get some head after (Weh)
'Matic charge and plug in like a adaptor
Them claim say them bad, them a character
Me go circle them ends like a protractor
Rocket launch?! Sound like helicopter
Boy dead, no doctor, no fracture
Open them head and read it like a chapter
Woii yoii
Yard man, cold-blooded, Jake's Road
[?] treat the road where give pretty girl in a me space ship a grieve we dick
Have the fu*king rocket out yah where reach the [?]