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I'ma G like the 7th letter in the alphabet My shirt's wet all over a new connect Caught a bullet in my neck and it's spillin' just like a sive Clentch the Glock wonderin' how long I'm gonna live But before I get ahead the story let's start with, The kid we was introduced through a kinda friend My man Ill Money would never lead me astray Real playa he don't fuck with nothing but big weight Put me up on game said the players in town Hold nothing but Afghan twelve hundred a pound At that price I could flip three or maybe four In less than a week through the front and out the back door He says here the numbers and I called the new cat Told 'im Money said them L-B-S's lookin' fat I'm lookin' to cop two or thirdies on front Had intents on flippin' two and baggin' the third up And layin' the dude down, and skirtin' with all them pounds And dumpin' a couple rounds, and skippin' a couple towns over When my boy Loc celled to the smoked out Over an inner sight front of the crack house I said I was plannin' the attack, I need a gun man and a Ryda watch my muthafuckin' back Cause if shit went wack niggas smoke up on me What's up R.O.C. it's ya muthafuckin' homie Seen the thing was I had to roll dude Letras de cancionesGrab the first burner I'm bout to fall through And bodies gon' go I swear right with me Blaze and R.O.C. make situations sticky Let out whoever's there babies are included We leavin' nothin' breathin' no discussions movin' I won't be seen, cause all they see is the flash from my barrel Fuck a penitentary, hand steady 160 cock me Cops can't stop me, fuck I'm gettin' sloppy Break a lil' bit cross the front of the bitch Start gunnin' when I pass 'em no aces ditched While the silencer's silencin' all that's involved We about to get paid ain't no time to stall Attempts to catch the bead of sweat drippin' down my face Burns my eye a lil' bit but my aim is straight [Hook] I can see it goin' down ILL CONNECT It's bout to happen right now ILL CONNECT Rob that boy for them pounds ILL CONNECT I like the way that sounds ILL CONNECT It might come back around ILL CONNECT I want the muthafuckin' crown ILL CONNECT Them bodies bound to be found ILL CONNECT I put 'em deep in the ground ILL CONNECT Shit went bad, there was undercover cops I shot, he shot, and R.O.C. popped One of his boys in the neck and it got worse Overhead was the sirens and the sounds of the ghetto bird I had a coupla holes in my chest like a golf course And I'm reloadin' the rounds for the I-4 task force And canine units that tried to subdue us Plenty of ammunition I'm lookin' to get ruthless Takin' shelter behind the side door Amidst the gun battle I drop a few more So many shells hit the ground and mixed with my blood It's dust clouds and gun powder and heat above Time ticks and the second hand fly pass The streets is riddled with blood and gun blasts And the final shot that fatally struck me An who the fuck are they kidding ain't no killin' Ya Dead Homie [Hook] From Letras Mania