(feat. Columbo the Shining Star)



To my niggas in the 2-1-2 and 3-1-0

bitches in the 3-0-5 and 4-0-4

niggas in the 7-1-3 and 2-0-1, 3-1-2, call 9-1-1



[Chorus]

It's Sticky Fingaz licken off in hip-hop [x3]

Every rhyme I kick is a gunshot



[Verse One]

My heart bleeds for you, so don't waste your tears

I'm about 175 in dog years

My blocks so hot step outside and get sunburned

Unless you talking business or money I'm unconcerned

I live for now because my days is numbered

I got a six shot revolver watch the barrel on my gun turn

I'm like an accident just waiting to happen

A nigga fuck, my killas in the cut waitin' to clap 'em

It's pitiful this game is too politcal critical

but let's not talk about the big I's and the little you's

Niggas wouldn't be confused if they mind their p's and q's

Keep your nose out of mine and I won't have to squeeze the two's

And cock the glock, what's that sound?

Everybody know Sticky be puttin down

So watch out watch out, niggas better clear a path

Think I'm scared to blast cause I'm doing flicks on Miramax

and New Line fuck security, my bodyguard is my two nines

Knew I'd make it big in due time

My only lie when my lips move

Gun in my crotch my forth leg is a pistol; who wanna get shot?

Until I smell 'em for myself I don't believe shit stink

robbing niggas for everything but the kitchen sink

And all these whack rappers want deals but no can do

Labels be like "Don't call us, we'll call you!"



[Chorus x2]



[Verse Two]

Back in the day Sticky was stickin' niggas

and strippin niggas and still getting figures

and pistol whippin niggas and flippin niggas

I ran with life bidders and ice pickers

Now wonder if this life fit us in Vegas with strippin white bitches

But that's just a deep thought in the back of my mind

I'm Black Trash true to the streets gritty and grime

I got a bone to pick a holdster with a shoulder grip

concealed inside my leather camoflauge so I can ride notice it?

Don't tell nobody, but between me and you I put three in you

Add you and ya crew to the M-E-N-U

I got bloopers of ya death and I draw it myself

Want the job done right you gotta do it yourself

My code defending my conscience, my mind afflicted with monsters

Kill a nigga over nonsense for five cents

You a glutton for punishment, I'm the nigga runnin shit

YO BREATH STANK THAT CAUSE YOU BE TALKING A TON OF SHIT!

You can't take me out forget about it

Killers in front of ya house forget about it

Y'all niggas don't want no war forget about it

I'll bring it to your front door and you won't do shit about it

You need work come see me son I'm taking applications

You can't beat me join me save yourself the aggravation

You dead if you harm a single hair on my head

My payback is going to cost you a arm and a leg



[Chorus x2]



[Outro]

Ooo.....



You can run but you can hide

when I come it's do or die

point your guns to the sky

put em up real high