[Samuel L. Jackson "Pulp Fiction" sample throughout song]
Does he look, like a bitch?
[Fes Taylor:]
Young niggas on the block, they trynna come up
Old niggas better have the hammer on you, when you run up
Grown ass man, f*cking with my little sister
Try to deal the youth rap, with great whiskers
They whisper, while my bills get crisper
Hundred grands, stash in the light ficture, pipes twist ya
Not good with plumping, Drain-O down the stove
Eat ya stomach, Fes you bugging, I'm just thugging
For a nigga had me covered, white sheets bloody
Rain drops fall, have my Nike sneaks muddy
Night streets love me, I might eat your plate
If you that hungry, I spit a fat lungy
Right in his face, disrespect mines
Power go out, disconnect lines
I'm doing fine, my grind done paid off
Got to carry the fam, my moms been laid off
Difference between me and Adolf is I don't hate ya'll
But if it's war, will take his face off
He don't wanna fight, came to knucle up with a knife
Buckle up, bout to send him to Christ
L.I.S. like chill, they wanna see you with Specs
2 Fly, I don't drive, nah, need me a check
Remember me with the Halloween mask? Just cause you ain't
Seen, don't mean I won't blast
[Chorus: Fes Taylor]
They wanna kill me, fill me with slugs
Really it's bugged, the same niggas grill me in clubs
But won't do nothing, they won't do nothing
So homey you fronting, fill me with slugs
But really it's bugged, the same niggas grill me in clubs
They wanna kill me, they wanna kill me
[Fes Taylor:]
Oh, hey, used to be washed up, like armor on car trucks
He come to me squash what? Your hard luck
Got 'em hating, I've been waiting for years
Doing good, that's when Satan appears
Now, niggas wanna enter my square, cop circle
Henny and weed, got my vision empaired
Like, drunk as f*ck, pissing in the stairs
Bulletproof vest on, pistol in the air
Hole in the wall, about to blow it all
Acting like I know it, 17, I throw 'em all
Our protocol is little me, I guarantee
To rename the ring bells, the next 20 centuries
It was meant to be, see misery visit me
Nah, I ain't asking for sympathy
But Santa never came to the Christmas tree
Imagine looking in your child's face, explain why you couldn't eat
f*ck that, I'm a take what's mine
58/58 dimes, I won't' take nine
The great mind talking, everybody know your business
But when the shots pop, nobody your witness
The 4 is back, nigga, this is more than rap
How could you ignore the fact?
I done been to hell and back, can't tell me jack
You probably belong in the Bellevue strap
[Chorus x2]