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(feat. Quest, S.K.) [Hook:] When you take a look, in my eyes You can see the gangsta, gangsta Glock forty on my side, when I ride With one up in the chamber, chamber A nigga trying to jump fly, and he gon die Ain't no love, for you wankstas wankstas I promise, I'ma ride till I die And ain't nothing gonna change up, change up [Quest:] I keep a tool, tucked under my seat for foolish thugs Wearing the blinds, running they mouth as smooth as fudge I pierce two up in your chest, and have you oozing blood Put the gat in his mouth, and have that nigga chewing slugs That gats I pack, like Sadam Garunteed, to make a nigga chest crack like the pecans Your ass'll get passed, like batons If you ever come around my block, asking for crumbs I'm from the slums, 89 Dub In the 89 hustler, watch with 89 clusters You never see, the Mercedes nine busters The amazing nine buster, blazing five touch ya I got pumps, that'll knock a nigga back off Letras de cancionesClothesline they fo'head, take a nigga head off Hoes give me scalps, like perms and weave This a deadly combination, like sherm and weed bitch [Hook] [S.K.:] S.K. motherfucker, I ain't fearing these niggaz If it's war that they looking for, war is exactly what they getting Fuck that lil' boxing, on faggot ass beats You pussy ass bitches come see me, if you real with this beef cause I'm real with the streets Now plexing ain't a thang for me, just make it more relevant Be more specific, who you talking to stop acting feminine See these bitches, really pushing they limits Spitting fiction ass lyrics, on wax expecting they anti-gun is to take em serious You see when niggaz is pitiful, name they guns like they gun slangers and caine And balance they aim, with one in the cham' And still in one, it get this dramatic But in order to survive the first wave of tactics, they gon need more than some automatics S.K. and quit that playing, with dick riding fanatics We rip on niggaz like cheap fabrics, for trying to get at us And I don't give a fuck, about reputation and status My reason here is to neutralize the static, so look in my eyes [Hook] [Mr. 3-2:] Mentally fucked up in the head, nigga for bread I heard what niggaz said, I'm gon fill em up with lead You scared you better pray, hope to see a better day Start chopping up with the K, leave you dead where you lay I stay on the Southwest, the boiling pot full of plex Where niggaz got it bad, ready to get it off the chest A vest won't save ya, from a deadly head shot Pre-meditated murder, with a throw away glock I plot and penetrate, set up masterplans Unsolved killers, that get cash in my hand A man I'm no kid, playing games in the street The jungle concrete, I survive so I eat Everyday is some'ing new, I got to adapt to Mr. 3-2, gon step on a nigga shoe To get what I want, so I could get better Instead of being on lock, writing home pain letters [Hook] From Letras Mania