[Intro: Popcaan] Yeah MAC-11 'pon me front seat Anywhere you duppy there, the killy them a come f'it From me send Skilli, trouble there a them feet Boy head a fi go buss, it could a tough like concrete Ratchet up the 'matic, a crime a complete 'Pon the drive-by, a full a designer man beat You see it? Trouble! Foot! Feet! And me a pull up with a rocket launcher (Weh!) I let her ride the dick just like a Honda (Yuh fu*k) And when me leave the house I bring the chopper (Boop) Me a rider with a rocket launcher (Psycho business!) Fire me gun and make it rocket launch Me knock it off, somebody face dropping off Yeah me buss them head and get some head after (Weh) 'Matic charge and plug in like a adaptor Them claim say them bad, them a character Me go circle them ends like a protractor Rocket launch?! Sound like helicopter Boy dead, no doctor, no fracture Open them head and read it like a chapter Woii yoii Yard man, cold-blooded, Jake's Road [?] treat the road where give pretty girl in a me space ship a grieve we dick Have the fu*king rocket out yah where reach the [?]