(feat. Loose Linx)



[Intro: Why]

Hahahaha, hahahahaha! You think you can defeat us?

Speak to all gangsta, gangsta, gangsta



[Why:]

If you ain't ready to die, then let your man know

Cuz I ain't responsible for where my hand go

Gun is full of bullets nigga, just like Rambo

So I ain't got worry 'bout reloadin' no ammo

I'm 'bout my business nigga, don't get it twisted nigga

And wit' a gun, I ain't that long distance nigga

I get close enough to speak in whispers

And send six shots up in you, what the cops is worth

They pull up on you, fuck you up

Won't hesitate to put them cuffs on you

Thats why I'm, squeezin' the biscuit the minute they try me

I refuse to get treated like Rodney and take forty one inside me

They say I'm Loose with it, but I'm just like they Jesus

On the crusifix, come on homey I'm used to this

Nah I ain't new to this, so play me close and I throw bullets

Like Bulls and all that there is ludicrous



[Chorus x3: Donnie Cash]

How could I be scared to death

When I'm not scared of death

Bitch I'm prepared to rep



[Donnie Cash:]

Somethin' that I sleep, I don't believe in dreams

I'm that, off in New York so I believe in fiends

Addition stacks regulation first, I'mma be blazin' verse

If not, what the fuck I'm supposed to leave my seeds

Have you closee, and cross the ferry boat to feed my fiends

Study the overcode of notes so I could lead my team

Park militant, deputy colonel, the Park Hillians

Civilians get stuck on my island, we call 'em Gilligan

It's back pa', don, for sure, Seaan John valor

Regular-regular, glock palm arm for war

Osama drama, keep the llama in the line of my cloth

The bottom line, that I'mma probable cause

All the times that problems be caused

The way my gun, proudly applaud, standing ovations

Plus I clap at your mans in rotation, the man of donation

Been known to hand on hand on occasions, I ain't goin', no where

It's like I'm stamped to the pavement

For my Loose Linx candle vacation



[Chorus x3]



[Sun God:]

I seen it all since the faint changed my style

Bank wild, juvenile, hesitatin' to smile

Refusin' me loud, I lay with the clouds

Four shots have you dead on the ground, whole squad grippin' the pound

We spittin' a round, to make moves on the cows

The farm house got me shook, I stop you crook

I said ma, watch me look, fulfill dreams and clock these rooks

The cops re-up, the'll watch the stuff

And lock you up for hand glocks

Now you sellin' rocks for your man pops

We tryin' to start a team like The Sandlot



[Chorus x3]