Lyrics
Bullets fly, my niggas ride, you’ve been advised
Say goodbye, won’t let it slide, let’s finish slime
On my mind, these niggas food like dinner time
Revenge coming, I grab a tool and drill his mind
No mashing, out the Phantom, they know it’s me
Start shoot, they’re screaming it was the KOB
Yeah, I’m a killer with a smile
Fuck fame, I’m the king dope dealer with the crown
Never stop shooting 'til them niggas on the ground
In the streets, screaming «my retaliation coming now»
, they put my homie in the grave
So I’m barefoot, running through the P’s with the K
Uh, but their mamas better pray
'Cause I got them on a list, I’m just trying to find the day
All black, four rugers and one mac
Ride back and dump, make sure they all clap
After the rapid fire comes the gun smoke
After the smoke clears, you see the homicide
After the homicide comes the funeral
After the funeral, it’s time to ride, revenge
I’m cut from a different cloth
Eat what I kill, blood on my dinner fork
I’m in the field with it, I ain’t really with the words
Any disrespect, it’s gonna be a purge, G side
Holler with me if you see me when you’re with the call
'Cause if I’m uncomfortable, my niggas letting off
Drop your top, then run to the cops, boy
Where I’m from, niggas pay off the cops
They tried to catch me slipping at the party
Somebody gonna see the son of anarchy
Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth
Tis is the season motherfuckers missing a roof
My sleeper, same nigga you call to freak the hoes (what else?)
Same niggas put you in a pita roll (what else?)
All the suckers gots to pay
Fifty shot clip, all you gon' see is 50 shades of gray
Man I’m stressed, I put my man to rest
Now it’s time to get them niggas who planned his death
(Where they at?) It ain’t hard to catch a stupid nigga
Instagram, you track him through his trenches
That little girl cute but gangsters don’t do it for the Vine
We do it for dead homies and niggas on the grind
Buck shots like boot camp, Fab 5
The clip flip inside of the mac just like a flash drive
Beretta, Glock, Smith, Sig, EAA
Pick a choice, I got five nines like Royce
Heard people up top with my man, flying him a kite
Wrote me right back, we got him, flying back tonight
Gun under his chin, had to fire with all my might
Brain on the ceiling, left him lying right on the light
Man from Canarsie, heard he was hiding in the Heights
Louder the dynamite, fire the iron