Key: G# minor
Verse 1
Yeah
Uhh, uhh
E
Uh!
G#m
E
Yeah, yeah
Uhh
G#m
I'm on
Fuck 'em, yeah, uhh
Fuck her, never knew her
Screw her, (dump her body,
dump her body) sewer
E
G#m
Our father, uh- huh
Verse 2
What you expected from his next of kin
G#m
I'm loco bro, but ain't no Mexican
I got nines in the bedroom,
Glocks in the kitchen
Uhh, the lesson from the Smith
and Wesson is depressin'
Niggas keep stressin',
the same motherfuckin' question
How many shots does it take,
And my body start to shake,
Verse 3
praise the Lord shit
With my hands gripped,
praise the Lord shit
before I wake
Verse 4
a nigga shit, smash him with the fifth,
watch his body lift
Shut his hottie's lips, bitch screamin',
hit her body quick
Got me like the trifest not
knowin' how my life is
The sheistest, hey fella,
who bidded with the lifers
Did it with the Glocks, spit it witcha pops,
you was in diapers
Loved me when you came to Rikers
mad you can't be like us
bikers, see Biggie Smalls
Recruited these snipers,
alumni do it just like us
Some pied pipers,
squeezin' life out y'all
E
It's all out war, be all wild as all outdoor
y'all be checkin' his palm
Paralyzin, my niggas thorough kid,
how 'bout yours?
Real quick to screw a nigga then,
hop out four
hop out yours
Verse 5
praise the Lord shit
With my hands gripped,
praise the Lord shit
before I wake
Verse 6
you fuckin' wit the best
Still goin' to war with them dusty TECs
Man you know how I handle my shit,
Jump out of vans like Hannibal Smith
your squad don't need it
Shredders in a riot pump leave
you quadriplegic
When I squeeze don't breathe
keep it lined and even
they be cryin' screamin'
G#m
Lyin' bleedin', from that iron steamin'
And I ain't tryin' to hear that bullshit,
I ain't mean it
Niggas start bitchin',
when that pistol in they face
and get you in your place
I'm wakin' my bitch
Hear take this shit, crackin' the brick,
facin' that shit
Takin' two sniffs, grabbin' my shit
y'all niggas takin' some shit
Verse 7
praise the Lord shit
With my hands gripped,
praise the Lord shit
Our father,
Verse 8
Off whiskey, you can miss me,
He's the King of New York,
I'm the King of L.A.
The Brooklyn Way, it's just the crook in me
So this is dedicated to the memory of
I got to go for mine
Cock my nine,
and seperate yo' head from yo' spine
So, "Grab yo' dicks if you
love hip- hop" and
for assassination
Of the young black male
in this black hell
And I can tell,
That you and Tupac
got yo' shit together
Verse 9
praise the Lord shit
With my hands gripped,
praise the Lord shit
G#m
E
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsG#m E
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