I'm Back

I Can take A Bullet and Bop To the ER
I can take a kilo cop me a mean car
Plasma screen wet bar
Stash for the tec shorty
Treat me like payday
Niggas better check for me
What the fuck you expect whordie
Bars like they pelican
Bay and thats hell for men
So say thats Hell for you
You don't wanna cell for 2
You better goto PC without the keyboard and screen
Cause nigga if you see me
That will be a bad day and you'll be in a bad way
Like hustlers caught without work and it's jumping on a saturday
You niggas know the cat will play when the dog roams off
But if you cats hustle here I'm a cut ya paws off
You are like a tasty cake nigga you are all soft
I can just take ya cake, or I can just haul off
And slap the piss out cha, with the pistol still on you
Bury you like Hoffa than start to build on you
Leave you in the basement, you are not a made-man
And when we start blazing, there will be no secondhand
Smoke from ya burner it still got that new smell
Like its new money or a whip with just one mile
I could take one ounce, turn it to a 8th of Brick motherfucker
You don't know I'm they inflator
My whip game proper like a old slave spiritual
After i eat ya food i will Tattoo a tear for you
My twin macs mirror dudes and when them bullets tear thru you
Ya man will have to share a few pints of blood to really do
Ya situation just us, beef up in Justin's
Nigga it was just us still I cut the mustard
Pop the toast and tossed it, like a ceasar salad
Cooked ya head like a sausage, peep my seasoned talents
I can bake the strip make cake from sniff
Than mix that shit with soda to inflate that shit
And that don't do nothing but inflate my chips
Now my whole team stunting on some x game shit
Willies on a CR, niggas say they seen God
When I spit a clean bar, like a irish spring bar
You are not at all hard, niggas like you fall hard
Like the stock market back in 1924
I can show you money whore, bunnies with the karats on
Old heads saying look at main man carry on
Like a louie carry on, luxury in every song
Fuck with me ill put you on, quicker than a slipper son
Every day a different gun, same piff popping off
Im working on a brick of cash, Ben Frank top it off
Plus he's underneath and between all the paper
I am not a baller but Im mean in the paint chump
Steam that siver haze up keep the iron in my jeans
Like the iron on my jeans, Im the lion on my team
Thats a leader Bitch served by the liter bitch, pints half and eights
Motherfucker I don't need a strip