[Twista]

I'm sick and tired of the pussy shit

Hoe-ass niggaz I hear rappin, they must be pussy-whipped

What happened to that Beanie Sigel fully shit?

No more sweet-talkin, I wanna hear about the fully clip

What they bust from a pistol grippin through suckin a tissue

But they ain't crushin a sickle, don't you be trustin 'em wit'chu

Homie fuck what's the issue, they will go nuts when I diss you

Crazy for once in my nickels so bring a customer wit'chu

Hit him with the back of the pistol and knock him unconscious

My rappin'll get you, I'm snappin, I'm a monster and I'm as

psycho as they get, I'm the shit, don't get hit with the burners

I'm heartless, I'm dark as [?] is the difference for murder

Plenty riches I earn as the best and the bosses know it

So much paper in the room I'm becomin claustrophobic

Get my message out to the thugs as if I talked to Moses

Score on these niggaz every time I see Moss is open...



[Chorus: Liffy Stokes]

Yeah, this for my niggaz on the grind (on the grind)

When niggaz out there on the deck that's doin time (doin time)

Cock mine, don't be scared even[?] to use it

Cause they're broke, startin the gang-bang music

Block music (block music)

This the shit that you play when you get into it

Block music (block music) block music (block music)

Bust your shit off nigga while I lose it

to this block music (block music) block music (block music)



[Skooda Chose]

K-Town Westside nigga, that's where the hood at

Gang-bang straight block music, that's what I'm good at

As soon as Skood' snap with a track

I burn it down this mantle to wax

It's textbook, example of crack

It's a gangsta party, weed chasers, a block, three haters

Bitch fast cars, a hand of gorillas, speed racer

No NASCAR for that green paper

I blast the Glocks to your team later

Don't ask why I holla back, scrap Holocaust, nigga I'm a boss

Cause that dead man pick-up flow, try me come across

I catch you late night, Johnny Carson - y'all niggaz probably vomit

I live life Sinatra in Vegas, Armani garments

Mob cars, makin moves or make some odd cars[?]

Run to your little hotel room discharge five

But niggaz pop with they ribs turnin

Just like on the block like they crib burnin

I do it for y'all...



[Chorus]



[B-Hype]

Yeah, I put you niggaz in a cemetery

And I'm delusional, don't know how many men I bury

I got a nina, now you know that bitch I gotta carry

But I'ma box you niggaz, shit I ain't never scary

Don't get it twisted my nigga, don't let the size fool ya

A swift kick up yo' ass is what I'd do to ya

B-Hype a menace, I'll finish you with no evidence

Gettin caught up in that bullshit is irrelevant

I'm too grown for my stakes, and these bitches I break

Cause I'm a fuckin snake, fuck you nigga go and hate

Shit I'm a time bomb, that's why I stay armed

And I smoke that backwood to keep my nerves calm

Look for my right arm, it's bringin much heat

And I'm a certified gangsta nigga in the streets

I'm a monster elite, I got them hood figures

And I'm comin real wit it, it's for the block nigga!