(Kokane) Ah yeah... (Spice 1) Murder is a part of the game and the jealous got me strapped Crunch nappy sack, sick homies who got my back Dead bodies, handcuffs, and house rage Two and the one up on that dope track, sportin gangsta brains Me and my homies feelin bail up in the hooptie With the fifth degree in Martin, the car ain't startin Some haters rolled up fo' deeper than the Chevy Wavin Techs up in the air like Machine-Gun Kelly I tell all my partners to bail up out the bucket One raised the clout and the other gettin ducked quick Enough, been rough so I begin to bust, straight dome shots Droppin got them shakin like they cop lockin Ski skirt clout smokin down the street With his player partner beatin up at these n***as up in the other seat I check myself see if I'm shot, but they don't hit me Shoppers singin like Whitney they wanna fit me With a Full Metal Jacket, but they don't get me Not one bullet touch my body, not even nick me We rushed my homie to the nearest Carsa hospital But it's too late he all felt stiff like a pop sickle (damn!) (Chorus w/variations: Kokane) Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop tryin to test me Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! I don't give a f** about you As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! (Spice 1) We shipped this spot for homicide, heat emergency Feelin go perform my own open heart surgery Because my partner shouldn't died like that We gotta show my homie love and get them busters back So we mobb through the ghetto lookin for revenge But we can't find a soul, fools talkin bout us gettin cold Behold a Chevy with gold deeds Could these be the headers who made my hooptie look like Swiss cheese Fools musta turned the lights off and let's get closer Don't let em see you pull your mask down, pull out the Dullja's With tales from the creepin on the hush feelin leave fo' s**ers in a dutch The midnight drama don't stop so if you get some dirt They'll dig you in the clear, cause player, you'll be outta here We ain't no s**ers, we doin it like John Gottie We left them fools in the parkin lot with open bodies (Chorus w/variations: Kokane) Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop tryin to test me Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! I don't give a f** about you As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! (Spice 1) We built up out the scene with out a clue People call the police but that's all they can do We hit the freeway in a bucket, feelin no remorse We regulatin in the ghetto with deadly force And ain't nobody tellin nothin about the decease Cause if you snitch your family count will get decrease Up in the game them things gonna be poppin ya, 187 in the style of the Mafia This ain't no business for busters, trick a** haters Try their pager, jealous cause you livin major Hit me on my pager, sharp as a razor And s**ers who don't feel me, get the Red Laser And sicker than a hangover, fools try to slang boulders But get snatched out their Range Rovers (Chorus w/variations: Kokane) Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop tryin to test me Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! I don't give a f** about you As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop to test me Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! Now I don't give a f** about you As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop tryin to test me Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! Now I don't give a f** about you As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! Situations gotta stick, drama, I don't give a f** about you, yeah Situations gotta stick, I got my own cop tryin to test me Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!