[HOOK]
This is for them killas/
This is for my killas [x4] (This is for them niggas on that gang shit) [x2]/
Make a little money and them niggas go away from the fake shit/
When you out here killin' mothafucka's they always wanna hang, shit/
[VERSE 1]
Uh, it's a very simple narrative/
They're comparin' me to Marylin/
I'm not American, speak Arabic/
Yeah, I went from therapist to terrorist/
You embarrassin' like, "Hey Mom, Levi's got a pair of them new J's on"/
Lost too many hood niggas to this gang, Mom/
So I got my hoodie on, call me TRAYVON/
What you know about FN's, 8-A's, blacklist rap shit, caskets, and napalms? (nothin')/
All you do is rap shit, nap quick, fat chicks, and act big and hood all day long (yup)/
Got a clip in the four, 'bout to kick in your door cause I'm fixin' to war (bang bang)/
If you ain't ever been to the ward or a prison before, tryna win an award/
I heard a couple niggas speakin' on my name, boy/
You lil niggas ain't from a real gang, boy/
I give your girl a Wet Willy like I'm Flameboy/
Y'all ain't touchin' me, I'm NESin' you with Gameboy (get it?)/
I be ridin' with them choppas and I/
Hit your block and then I pop a nigga/
Rizzo mocka, Ubaka, nigga/
Twin Glocks, call 'em Troy and Kiana/
And I'm piercin', when I shoot I'm piercin'/
I could give a fuck about whoever hears this/
See no, hear no, eyes and earless/
When it come to yo block, I'm so fearless/
Tell yo dead homie rest in beer piss/
Dear kids be solo on weird shit/
Ain't nobody in my city even comin' near this/
Think otherwise, slit your throat, no Spearmint, nigga/
This is for them killas/
This is for my killas [x4] (This is for them niggas on that gang shit) [x2]/
Make a little money and them niggas go away from the fake shit/
When you out here killin' mothafucka's they always wanna hang, shit/
[VERSE 1]
Uh, it's a very simple narrative/
They're comparin' me to Marylin/
I'm not American, speak Arabic/
Yeah, I went from therapist to terrorist/
You embarrassin' like, "Hey Mom, Levi's got a pair of them new J's on"/
Lost too many hood niggas to this gang, Mom/
So I got my hoodie on, call me TRAYVON/
What you know about FN's, 8-A's, blacklist rap shit, caskets, and napalms? (nothin')/
All you do is rap shit, nap quick, fat chicks, and act big and hood all day long (yup)/
Got a clip in the four, 'bout to kick in your door cause I'm fixin' to war (bang bang)/
If you ain't ever been to the ward or a prison before, tryna win an award/
I heard a couple niggas speakin' on my name, boy/
You lil niggas ain't from a real gang, boy/
I give your girl a Wet Willy like I'm Flameboy/
Y'all ain't touchin' me, I'm NESin' you with Gameboy (get it?)/
I be ridin' with them choppas and I/
Hit your block and then I pop a nigga/
Rizzo mocka, Ubaka, nigga/
Twin Glocks, call 'em Troy and Kiana/
And I'm piercin', when I shoot I'm piercin'/
I could give a fuck about whoever hears this/
See no, hear no, eyes and earless/
When it come to yo block, I'm so fearless/
Tell yo dead homie rest in beer piss/
Dear kids be solo on weird shit/
Ain't nobody in my city even comin' near this/
Think otherwise, slit your throat, no Spearmint, nigga/
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