[Verse 1]
God, the original black man
Sean, the criminal gat, blam
Real n***as lick shots, peace Connecticut
Beat etiquette is [?] speech impediment
Your bars delicate
Gentle cycle,, nobody don't like you
Politely the knife strike you
Scarred in the yard
That's what the God kites do
Beat box is spittin'
Keep shot, P pop, you keep locked in friction
I let Bernadette punch you
Without a concern cause you heard what the vet gun do
Burn into your face Ruck is crazy
Murder was the case that they gave P
You was never hot
Assa**inate your dream to a King and Coretta Scott