Timestamped:
Bun B been tryna warn nikkas
Well it's Bun-B bytch, and I'm the king of movin' chickens'
Not them finger lickins, stickin' nikkas that be trickin'
You need a swift kick in', yo ass is ripe for the pickin'
Now as my pockets thicken
I be kickin' nickel slickin' you sick when I be clickin'
Now take a look at the bigger nikka, Malt liquor swigger
Playa hata ditch digger
Figure my hair trigger give a hot one in yo liver
You shiver, shake, and quiver
I'm frivolous if a nikka get wetter than a river
For what it's worth it's the birth of some nikkas doin' dirt
fukk her first night, take off the skirt, make her p*ssy hurt
It's the Master
Hit the Swisha faster then you fever blister b*stard
fukk yo sister passed her, fifty
elbows for sale yo
Brother better have my mail ho
Fore I catch a murder case and go to jail
Oh, hell no! Time to bail hit the trail so
We can sell mo fukkin' yayo get the scale
No other bullet duckers can shove us out of this game
So they better buck us, cause the cluckers they love us
Make them glass dikk suckers shake their jelly like Smucker's
I hit like nun-chuckers,
cause Short Texas bring the ruckus
This for my muhfukkers, cookin' cheese to crooked G'z
Rockin' up quarter keys just to get the hook with ease
Wannabes get on yo knees
Feel the squeeze from them HK 1-3s
From here to overseas, we do what we please
Don't trip cause we flip, light up a dip
I'm breakin' 'em off from they hip to yo lip
Go ask that boy Skip, that nikka Bun rip
With one clip, soon as the gun slip
Now I done whipped out my Barrelli
Flyin' through yo Pelle Pelle and
Some smelly red jelly is drippin' out of ya belly
Served 'em like a Deli jumped on my cellular telli
Ho sell it like it's goin' out of style
You can't see me Marcus so have a
Motherfukkin' Sweet and a smile
