Lyrics
Three in the morning when I come for ya
Tell your baby mother to take cover under the comforter
Leave her a widow, your mother have to comfort her
When them big uncomfortable guns are dumping, sir
Blood on my sleeve — my first line, «Time to leave»
Blood on my watch cause it was your time to bleed
When the beef’s right, pick a fresh nine to squeeze
Raise the heat to a hundred and ninety nine degrees
You dudes too minor league
Me, I’m behind the trees
Blending in, something like fatigues
Jump out like John Rambo, armed with ammo
I’m a commando, stay in
Squat low when them blammers spit
In the craziness, I might blast a bitch
I’m no atheist, I’m not blasphemous
Pray to God forgive me, they try to blast and miss
I know God was with me, but am I hustling backwards
Or is it drama is just in love with us rappers?
I want a better role like struggling actors
I’d rather chill like I’m on muscle relaxers
With a couple of masterpiece chicks to guzzle my bastard seeds quick
That would be sick
Instead, I’m a warrior at war
Saying an American prayer like I’m Jim Morrison in the Doors
Praying I survive, paranoid as I’m looking out the window
Nigga, I shoot before the wind blow
Kinfolk, please don’t ignore this info:
Niggas get bagged and smoked more than indo
Who I trust? Me
Save that «we» shit for Nintendo
Before morbid pistols
Blow you out this orbit
Forfeit, get low
Or get buried under horseshit, big bro
Yeah, I stay blasting pipes
'Til I see my favorite rappers in the afterlife
I been kidnapped like Kanye in «Flashing Lights»
Held against my will, it didn’t last a night
I made it out in one piece
Now I keep at least one piece
Just add water, you niggas made a young beast
Unleash Jekyl and Hyde, the rebel arise
Several have died, so what’s beef?
Beef is when your captors are after you
For doing what you have to do
Killing the other half of their faggot crew
And it’s true
The color of my heart is the blackest hue
Understand this madness, sadness
If I wasn’t rapping, I’d be strapped to a mattress
Eating a Prozac sandwich -- goddamn, this is therapeutic
Since it’s the bomb, it’s thermobaric music
Stashbox weapons of murder occupy
More firearms than burning octopi
That’s why they call 'em «burners», I just taught you why
Get equipped, cause you slow learners got to die
If you coming for me, best believe I’m disabling you
Let Death set a table for two
If you coming for me, best believe I’m disabling you
So let Death set a table for two
I’m leading right now
In the race for the West Coast, I’m leading right now
I’m leading right now
In the race for the West, I’m leading right now
I thought I told ya
This is Southern California
C.O.B., niggas from the corner
Don’t make us draw heat down on ya
