[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]