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You know how I gets down
This pound hold six rounds
I told you I'd be back bitch
Talk that shit now
You hear that fo fif sound
Duck when I spit rounds
'cause this ain't Beverly hills
You in the bricks now
We ain't got shit down here but dope and guns for sell
You get yo head cracked and niggas don't run and tell
Its like we sell crack get caught head back to jail
We on that fuck the police shit
We livin' in hell
You betta' guard yo grill homey
And stand yo ground
These bullets burn
They hit who evers standin' around
I never learn even after I took a couple shots
I just got me some band-aids and bought a couple glocks
Had to go on a rampage and hit a couple blocks
Once they hear that 12-gauge that's when the trouble stops
If its beef then I'm ready to ride
Just come to brooklyn you can find me on the north side.
New York - Crooklyn.
Me, Myself & I.
Currently closed.
Anything? Hit the DM.
Let me take you to the hood, nigga.
Where we all under stress.
Thugs die a bloody death.
Got a package from my enemies, inside it was a vest.
The note attached to it said “We ain’t aimin’ at ya chest”.
In the, hood nigga.
Show you what danger is about. Cameras filming every angle of my house.
Gotta send gang-bangers with my spouse.
Niggas aimin’ at her blouse.
Trying to change her into an angel in the clouds.
Pow-pow in the hood, nigga.
Fuck with me I go gorilla.
