Dylan Ross - Homicide, Suicide, Genocide, Drive By lyrics

[Verse 3: Dylan Ross] Hit em with the muthaf**in' whirl once again I ain't sipping on juice, I ain't sipping on gin As I creep through the mud all you hear is a thud And I'm sipping on blood as I do you in I ain't gotta prove sh** To you to win b**h I'm back up in the streets f** a booth and a pen (f** rap) Ten toes down make you run from the sound Of a hollow tip whistling all through the town Down for the crown and I'm down for the cause I'm down for breaking jaws, I'm down for breaking laws I'm down for paying a cost I'm down for being a boss I'm down for having the [?] You can feel up in my jeans, I got bigger balls Many men up in the streets they got menopause I'm here to give every other rapper and men a loss Zaggin' like a bone and the bone zag make a heart I'll make you meet your f**ing maker b**h I ain't no faker Why you thinking I'm wearing a three piece suit Pushing a Studebaker Four Motherf**er I'm bout to go to war I'm on her throat f**ing Molly so the kick so be my who*e I'm aiming with tha four I'm accustomed to proper grammar b**h but not no more Let the acid rain pour Down on ya About to sick the hounds on ya Rest in Peace to Mister Aches creeping out the ground on ya [Hook]