Goin In

[?] Home of the thoroughbreds, Ya Know
Humphrey productions, let's go
They got the whole world counting on this come back
City to city like where the fuck your son at?
Wasting too much time fucking with them dumb rats
Whoever slept on the boy, shouldn't have done that
Now go stand in the corner, put on your dunce hat
He cocked both of his guns back
He about to make a call to Cali for his Spanish Muscle
Then I'mma spin one of you niggas like the Spanish hustle
Be from Queens, were the can is muffled
His move was shaking so hard
He turned the land to rubble
Dumb dopes just opened up a can of trouble
I bet my life on it mack
That this is the gambler's double
It's not a good look, don't make the map paint a picture
Give rose beds put your head with a train of clickers
I see you niggas not seeing like a gang of Hitlers
With arose and a black cloud it's gonna bring a twister
Surgical scrubs, check
Surgical gloves, check
I murder you mugs, check
Now clear I'm about to go in
Mags with a muz[?], check
Sponge for the blood, check
Now give 'em the drugs, check
And clear I'm about to go in
Scissors and knife, check
Now give me some lights, check
Six of them wipes, check
And clear I'm about to go in
Pistol and lube, Tech
A few of them tubes, check
Some medical glue, check
Now clear I'm about to go in
There's only room in this town for one dude in black
And I'll pack lead in your back like school is back
I'll leave you niggas with waves like it's a hula snack
You look a little tired homie, you could use a nap
You ain't got to tell me twice where the food is at
He keeps shots in his arms like a user's tracts
Dum-Dums all in his guns like it's a foolish strap
No childlike skipping here
True pursuit are back
Mine is enterprise crime, you's a petty crook
You throw that hoodie on it's about to be a heavy tux
I'm about to leave a smoke cloud like some Deli[?] Kush
Well, well, well lookie what we have here
Shell, shell, shell, nobody now the path clear
Nothing but cash here
Y'all are just looking half queer
Sixteen ruler head[?] like I'm about to smash deers
And put 'em in the grass dere
Be on their last steers
I leave your head missing a solid like it's a bad peer
I'm about to put my flag here
Save your wack verses
OK [?] I don't feel your raps
And you don't know me boy, don't try to get familiar cat
A ring of chains trying to tangle with these silverbacks
A couple of things from out the pen to leave them real relaxed[?]
You had your run time the fun's over, chill with that
You're Fred Flintstone nigga
Where your Wilma at?
I'm onto my dividends, was born for the intimates
Your toddlers in the play pen
Was G upon the entrance [?]
The dope man is coming with the thick/fix syringe
I see your pay day is Friday
Some drinks again [?]
You made a little name but now your flame is flickering
Only they counting as if this cheddar never makes it friend
Me on this grind heading for the strips again
Clown don't make me come around and make me have to spit your Ken[?]



Credits
Writer(s): Rodney Octavius Brandon, Jerome Alan Wilson Jr
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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