I'm back, scrap, frying and whipping
I am consistent, pot or chicken
I backpack iron for tripping,
These rat cats flying and snitching
From the trip in the road,
where they sitting it cold
Just to backstab you for the rock,
Drip you for clothes, slip on your joes
Make you slip on your toes, hoe
This nigga is felt, the sickest
Who else'll put your brains on your shirt
So you can think to yourself, huh?
Make it rain on this game,
put her under the weather
It's a hundred and better,
Any beef, you know the street's sweet,
fresher than a drag truck
all your weaponry collect dust
nothing like your breakfast
the color is some egg guts
mock the evil and it's sickening
Just listen, these niggas
couldn't see me with prescriptions
I'm something that you wanna be
and nothing like a wannabe
I plug one in your artery
You'll need more triggers,
And like the rope when you're on the W,
I'm back in the motherfuckin'
More commas in my motherfuckin' bank account,
You already know what it is,
So get your motherfuckin' weight up,