[ VERSE 1 ]

Murder, murder, murder muthafuckas

Yeah, I'm short, but my boys cause ruckus

It's the nigga that's icey like a popsicle

It's like the jail when it comes to clockin every nickel

You want static with the Fac, bring that ass on

Tec-9 to the dome, nigga, live in traum'

I gotta get on the muthafuckin grind

Find a spot in the bushes for my nine

Cause niggas don't sleep on the spot

And if you do, you be the first to get got

So don't get caught on the slip

Pack a double m or a pistol grip

Robbin muthafuckas to stay alive

Cause in the ghetto only the strong survive

And O.G.'s, they can tell when the task hit

New jacks try to run and get they ass split

And a nine ain't shootin blanks

It's the cop who had a fucked up day and a little drink

Get a thrill for a kill, a trigger to a nigga

The feel of the black steel make him quiver

I got love for my jammie, it's a damn shame

But I ain't the one to get fucked in the game



Fucked in the game



[ VERSE 2 ]

A to the muthafuckin Z

So close your eyes, grip your dick and count to three

If my dome is tried to fuck

I drag your ass through a alley and chop you up

I ain't takin no shorts, gee

I kill your dog and your baby and your muthafuckin family

Let Spice hold the double m

I fuck around and go nuts and shoot up her and him

Cause it ain't no thang to let my dick hang

Gunshot bang, had to fuck him up, mayn

So now I'm watchin every nigga with a hawk eye

Put on a wig just like them homies doin walk-by

I think I need to see the Wiz cause I'm heartless

Leave a lotta muthafuckas headless

Cap-cap-cap

Leave a nigga brains pulsatin in his lap

You get a hole in your chest without the