[Intro: Necro]
Yo...
Don't make me flip on you
Actually you can't make me do nothing
I might decide to
[Verse 1: Necro]
I used to mush thugs
And now I push d**
I knew a kid that put slugs in his own mug
Used to show me his guns
Ain't a cat that knows me as son
Remember violence at only one
I used to watch how my Pops would treat a girl
And beef with the world
He had a bone to pick
That's why my dome was sick
It rubbed off on me
Because the apple don't fall far from the tree g
You cats keep your distance
Cause your scared I might flip in an instant
When I was filled with innocence
I was still committing sins
Half of you cats are sweet like cinnamon
I shove a knife in your grin
I run with convicts who stick up kids
That'll rob you for six bucks b**h
We flip right before you expect it
Because we were neglected, as children now we're hectic
We shot men and we rob gems
I seen cats that used to clock me, now I clock them
Got easier access to a Glock-10
In case, one in ya face is the only option
[Hook x2]
Necro with Ill Bill
Walk around like - murder, murder, k**, k**
Gun up in your grill
And you screaming 'Chill! Chill!'
Didn't have your steel, now you get your cap peeled
This is our life, our life
[Verse 2: Ill Bill]
Ayo, I grew up in the motherf**ing projects
My moms says if my pop left
We would have to get a section-8 apartment
The rent's cheap, I see Decepticons at least
Ten deep, run up on me flipping, wanna set beef
That was some f*ggot sh**, me and my brother
Went for do-lo
The only 2 white kids up in my projects that wasn't h*mo
I fought every day, beefed with a hundred cats
Way before I started sold d** and busting caps
Way before I bust my first nut, I love to rap
At 10 years old is when I first started to f** with that
Everyone else in my PJ's who'd rhyme was black
I kept it to myself, continued to define my craft
I used to buy my mother milk dragging a spike bat
You fought with me, I was the type of cat to fight back
I lace you with a broken nose, holding the ice pack
Whites, blacks, Puerto Rican's, we was poor, it was wack
My mom's tried her best
I never graduated high school I learned to pump d** and pack 9's instead
Became one of those violent heads
Have you on a respirator, even though the doctor know your mind is dead
[Hook x2]