What's up homies, naw, f** that foo
That foo need to get shot on sight
For real though, he over here, instigating sh**
And in the end, he's always apologizing breaking it
down, trying to talk his way out of it
Naw that foo's time's up, check it
Drive with me, and rob this cats
Muthuf**ers go hard someone bout to get stabbed
That's underworld travel, in ah body bag
Communicate with the disease, ah c**aine pin
In this nocturnal hours sercerition man
With his ski mask boy congregations get panicked
Ah fortune telling, ese future events
While living in the seat where no one repents
I presence, all you dead a** guru
Foo every last one got hit typhoon
Get me ah spoon, with the puddle of tar
So I can get busy like electric guitars
So watch how you come cus I've become
Ah tata with ah prendas spit Jamaican rum
Wo, you know you f**ed up right
Ese fulla on the firma ah religious pray
Ain't no love in my heart if you wait from the park
I'll pull up on your corner all you see is the spark
From the pistol, the blood just trickle
I hit you in the chest and the bullets just k**ed
you
Ain't no love in my heart, for none of this lames
They get clapped in the back for their weak a** ways
No games, got him what he deserves
Ese I'ma flow bout it as I toke that herb
Too many cases, but the buddha still green
Ese money still stacking but you know the routine
I'm raw cut, and I show no mercy
But this hating muthuf**ers wanna try to curse me
Demonology, roam through the men
Showing up at your door if your a** persist
The snake hiss, when it face infliction
Stay loaded all the time flow on h**n addiction
I'm wilding, silent but violent
The ninas stay tuck only I could find it
The lights blinded, as I glide through the hood
Homie same f**ing corner 20 years I stood
My conjuration, that raise the prices
LA is my town ain't no breaking off slices
Todo miro, the thought conveyor
C Mac-11, the ill rhyme saor
Ain't no love in my heart if you wait from the park
I'll pull up on your corner all you see is the spark
From the pistol, the blood just trickle
I hit you in the chest and the bullets just k**ed
you
Ain't no love in my heart, for none of this lames
They get clapped in the back for their weak a** ways
No games, got him what he deserves
Ese I'ma flow bout it as I toke that herb
You ah clown a** muthuf**er, serio, abrete ala
verga