feat. Peter the Disciple, Blackout, Pinhead



Verse 1: Peter the Disciple



I walk in hell, bucking and fighting, scratching and biting

Throwing bows, showing gold's, and smoking dro's

Drinking yak in the back, presidential

Hand in hand with the devil, my team imperial

We don't hang with that busta they call Miracle

The First Disciple, 30 shots from the rifle

Grab his soul like a reaper

A.k.a. better known as Lil' Peter

Light 'em up with the powder

Best believe I'm a rider

The Pastor said sic him and whoever else with 'em

And watch me and my boys go and flip him, we ready



(Pastor Troy)

I think somebody's bout to die (4x then to background of hook)



Hook: 4x



You say you want me, but you betta brang yo army

Dez Georgia Rebels ain't gone let nobody harm me



Verse 2: Blackout



Killa, disabled, stable, mentally challenged the name 'em

But yet I manage over God given talents

Enter near it, cause ravage and repercussions, and damages

Pimpin' at them, Iceberg slim, seeking Titanic

Creeping steady slow

Bobin' and weavin' we broke a do'

Complication rules the nation so I roll while I smoke

This one goes out to my folk

This one they caught in they smoke

Bungey jumping, hang gliding, and sliding of ski slopes

Went from selling busta's dope, over used to be coke

I can't cope, cut throat, rhymes over dope

I go fo' broke



Verse 3: Pinhead



Smoking on that reefer, with the street sweepers

Suckers I got wiped up can't run from the grand reaper

Peep a, Miracle game so lame that you can't show

You tried to steal a track from the Pastor and got caught

I brought my freaking folks

My folks that keep it real

We drinking on that Brandi and we handy with the steel

Better guard yo grill, hard to kill, like Steven Segal

Cause when I see him fall, I'ma shatter his brains against the wall



(Pastor Troy)



I think somebody's bout to die 4x then to background of hook



Hook: 4x



You say you want me, but you betta brang yo army

Dez Georgia rebels ain't gone let nobody harm me



Verse 4: Pastor Troy



Okay they got me last and I'm mad

And I'm ready to fight

One hundred eighty pounds strong, but watch how I bite

They takin flight, cause this buster ackin' like my amigo

Hit 'em seventeen times with that chrome desert eagle

These my people, in Georgia, ignore ya, I can't

Get dumped off in Miami riding on candy paint

Now would you believe I got a body in my trunk?

I'm crunk out the window, hell yeah!, I shot the punk

The first to dump, the first one that punk scatter

I'm high I'm drunk, put I'm still labeled that Pastor

So any bastard, that got plans to harm me

You best of be ready cause I got a army



(Pastor Troy)



I think somebody's bout to die 4x then to background of hook



Hook till end



You say you want me, but you betta brang yo army

Dez Georgia Rebels ain't gone let nobody harm me