[Verse 1: Lord Infamous]
A black heart, no pity, no motherf**in' love
All about the ends, stupid b**hes and the d**
The ammunition is so lethal from the future artillery
No point the doctor can't save you see no need for the surgery
Bomb burns, scattered flesh in ya rib cage
Due to the grenade launcher attached to the 12 gauge
Still k**a want more n***as down (?)
A cold metal, hot shells ...
Deep in the depth people hope you're ready to rumble
The hollow points (?) launchin' so rapidly ... stumble
Everything in silence, not a f**ing mumble
You b**hes you know when I be ... body ... on my gat
The paper ... like a (?) black jack
This game ain't clean so we have to play so dirty
k**a Man smoke a man with his thirty-thirty
Buckshots in ya heart I bet ya (?) pointed at ya
[Hook/Samples]
[Verse 2: Juicy J]
Pointed right at ya is my f**in' metal
Project Pat get the body bags, you bring the Shovel
Level the scope out, aimin' at ya spinal cord
f**in' with the Juicy J, some sh** a n***a can't afford
Ammunition' flyin' and they faster than Daytona
Hollow points penetrate yo a**, you be a goner
I'm known to keep the sh** quite low profile
Notorious as low down, k** ya executioner style
Buckwild ... Juice, Paul
North Memphis cappin' on tricks that wanna be hard
Smile in my face, actin' like they cool with me
Jealous a** b**h where I'm goin' on a shootin' spree
Like my n***a André be scopin' at yo crew
He don't give a damn about how? where? who?
There is gon' be a k**in' when b**hes take a step
My gat's pointed at ya and you gonna meet the d**h
[Hook/Samples]