breakdown this
They heard about the Rolexes and the Lexus
With the Texas license plates out of state
They heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown
And they heard you got half of Virginia locked down
They even heard about the crib you bought your moms out in Florida
The Fifth Corridor
Call the coroner!
There's gonna be a lot of slow singing and flower bringing
If my burglar alarm starts ringing
What ya think all the guns is for?
All purpose war, got the Rottweilers by the door
And I feed em gunpowder, so they can devour
The criminals trying to drop my decimals
Damn...nikkas wanna stick me for my cream
And it ain't a dream, things ain't always what it seem
It's the ones that smoke blunts with ya, see your picture
Now they wanna grab they guns and come and get ya
Bet ya Biggie won't slip
I got the Calico with the black talons loaded in the clip
So I can rip through the ligaments
Put the fukkers in a bad predicament, where all the foul nikkas went
Touch my cheddar, feel my Beretta
Buck! What I'mma hit you with you motherfukkers better duck
I bring pain, bloodstains on what remains
Of his jacket - he had a gun he shoulda packed it
Cocked it, extra clips in my pocket
So I can reload and explode on you ra$$hole
I fukk around and get hardcore
C-4 to your door, no beef no more nikka
Feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
I don't give a fukk about you or your weak crew
What you gonna do when Big Poppa comes for you?
I'm not running, nikka I bust my gun and
Hold on, I hear somebody coming