[Intro: Solomon Childs]
Yeah, See that's what's wrong with these stupid motherf**ers
Huh, You know they ain't give you the good vest n***a
sh**, We got sh** that can go through your fest
You know the boss kept the good fest, Haha
You thinking that that's some bullsh**
You thinking that's just because the sh** done hit you
That that's the impact from the bullets hittin the vest
But nah that ain't that, That sh** done went through
n***a ya bleedin, Somebody come pick this n***a up man
Call the paramedics to come pick this n***a up man
Uh, Uh, Yeah
[Solomon Childs]
I've realized for the money, I'll pull rips out intestins
Who the f**'s playin, What the f**'s so funny
Warrants, We got warrants for you n***as and we come'n
To apprehend you n***a, Gone show up with sopeanas in your hood
The Guerrilla, Sasquatch hoods
Or have you esophagus bleed, With boat rope
Around your neck in military knots, 'Til we see the goods
Hip Hop's Frank Lucas, It's a cold world partner
Surrounded by a bunch of hate'n motherf**ers
That's gonna burn in a bed of karma, In cemetery fog
Time em to a stake, Have em burn like a road hog
They say the ghetto has got a thing for murder
As well as extortion so 'til I die I'm authentic like my Daddy's burner
Give me a reason
[Chorus 2X: Solomon Childs, (Coco)]
I'ma get my crook on, 'Til a n***a see that money
Them boys is hungry. (Pushing, Pushing, Straight up extortion)
[Solomon Childs]
That's right, I gotta big mouth
You feel violated, Then let the toasters blow
Assa**in verbal, Versatile cosmo
Blood on my teeth like Coojo
Shoot a b**h n***a in the coolo
Them water head n***as is food in the mountains
Perpetrate'n the fraud on these streets, No clappin
Just a whole lotta shoutin, Spit swagger
So it can flow through the air like a Frisbee
I'm here for good so ain't no need to miss me
I'm into Southern belles and they love to kiss me
Blomberg gone f** around and give me keys to the city
Next door to Fifty in the Waldorf tipsy
I put the scope in the infey, In a hood near you
Scare who, I'ma do it like H.N.I.C. supposed to do
[Chorus]
[Outro: Solomon Childs]
Hey Momma they shootin, Cover the babies
Cover the babies Momma they shootin...