| This is for my front page niggas, twelve-gauge niggas |
| Quick to kill a motherfucka trapped in a rage nigga |
| Gorillas, baboons, grizzly bears |
| Walk into the country jail and throw they hood in the air |
| The drug dealers, drug addicts, lizards and snakes |
| Who live fast and die young, all gas no brakes |
| In the scrapper taking on a high speed chase |
| He working on his third strike he can’t take that case |
| The clinically insane who got to be on their meds |
| Risperdal, Thorizine, cuz they sick in the head |
| The American psychos, loonies and live wires |
| Trap you in the basement and set the house on fire |
| The gang bangers, gamblers and stick up kids |
| And all my four yard soldiers doing ten year bids |
| This is for y’all my nigg balls to the wall my nigg |
| Build it up just to watch it all fall my nigg |
| Remember back to the gutta |
| We go 'a swimming in the sewers motherfucka |
| We gon make the speakers bleed with gun shots |
| And blow out our fucking brains when the fun stops |
| Maybe not, but it will be some buck shit |
| Let 'em know we not the ones to fuck with |
| They get nervous cuz we the ones they stuck with |
| So lock your motherfucking doors and good luck pricks |
| Im feeling sick |
| Im feeling sick |
| You ever feel crazier than cat shit |
| Want to grab a sledge and go bat shit |
| You feeling grimy like an alley full of rat shit |
| Well this song is a soundtrack for that shit |
| It’s some mo' break his fucking back shit |
| Find somebody to just haul off and smack shit |
| Killer bee style, swarming rat pack shit |
| Pull out the nine millimeter click clack shit |
| Take the shotgun off the gun rack shit |
| Slam a nigga on his head on some Shaq shit |
| Wartime, get dressed in all black shit |
| Now go show these motherfuckers how to act shit |
| (Times two) |
| Remember back to the gutta |
| We almost swimming in the sewers motherfucka |
| We gon make the speakers bleed with gun shots |
| And blow out our fucking brains when the fun stops |
| Maybe not, but it will be some buck shit |
| Let 'em know we not the ones to fuck with |
| They get nervous cuz we the ones they stuck with |
| So lock your motherfucking doors and good luck pricks |
| Remember back to the gutta |
| We almost swimming in the sewers motherfucka |
| We gon make the speakers bleed with gun shots |
| And blow out our fucking brains when the fun stops |
| Maybe not, but it will be some buck shit |
| Let 'em know we not the ones to fuck with |
| They get nervous cuz we the ones they stuck with |
| So lock your motherfucking doors and good luck pricks |