Lyrics:
Loaded clips, Lock 'em in
Got a black four five call it Pac's revenge
I'm a mutha fuckin animal lil Jon be canibal
Every nigga in Atlanta Know
I'm psycho
guard ya grill
'cause where ya goin you gotta watch your back
Judge, god damn another nigga didn't make it back (Mr.C)
My lil brother Kevin Miller rest
on no Twitter, I be go on a niggas
I'ma make you be a gangster, bring the ho out niggas
I'm bumpin' Slaughter Gang, 21, back when I was 21
Drive-bys
attention
She say, "He hella smart, I would've swore he went to Princeton"
Not quite, but it's the school of life that taught me death prevention
That's
always creep
You always creep
You always creep
Ayo, uh, one, two, three, four
Kill Bill, Jackie Brown, Pulp Fiction, and Reservoir
Peep the lore,
You can't catch him, you can't stop him
I go by them goon rules
If you can't beat 'em then you pop 'em
You can't man 'em then you mop 'em
You can't
no peace
For an adolescent nigga to rap, to be a thinker
Bud smokin' twenty-four seven, everyday drinker
Got my diploma but I never learned shit in
it up to that life and I mean it
We in this bitch, we in this ho
I got the .40 on me now, I'm worse than Plaxico
Shout to Gangsta Gibbs, he
One lil, two lil, three lil G's
Hangin' on the dope spot slangin' they keys
Four lil, five lil, six lil cops
Leanin' in the cut, 'bout to get popped
a lil bit more than that underground shit
Had that army fatigue, the Chuckers
I signed a nigga by the name of Big Pun
That nigga went double plat
Call it Pac's revenge
I'm a motherfuckin' animal
Lil Jon be canibal
Every nigga in Atlanta Know
I'm psycho insane about my cash, they should re-open
up listening to Project Pat (Pat)
Dropping hits and selling bitches, my life like Hustle and Flow (Deejay)
Twenty pack of 'za, I got it off when I
at what these songs do
Gangster and a baller, baby, I do what I want to
I be with some steppers, I don't care 'bout what you gon' do
Wet shit like
just a lil' more now)
We ain't gonna get no sleep
I go my way, you go yours
You taste real life, I taste tours (alright)
Sweet at first, but after
'm blowin' up
Put that cross between your eyes
Thug life, bitch, you a gangster
I can vouch that you got fired, huh
Your life in danger
You gon' spank
Yo cuz, ringsend and Compton on a track what
The fuck’s up with that?
Where I come from bricks get danced on
Then sold by the fellas with the amps
[Featuring Mac]
[Master P]
Dear Mr. President i live in the hood
Where people live bad
But say its all good
And my homies
the show, c'mon!
Let's go
Say one, two, three, four
Say oh! Clap your hands
Uh, let's start the show
C'mon, c'mon
Say one, two, three, four
or prison
Drive bys, little homies hit the store for liquor
I gotta steer my life different, where to begin with?
Mama told me go back to school, I said I
How you doin' I'm Mr. Mos I'm back
Timb are you on it
Timb are you on it
Give me some
Is this what you wanted?
Is this what you wanted?
Oh
just a lil' more now)
We ain't gonna get no sleep
I go my way, you go yours
You taste real life, I taste tours (alright)
Sweet at first, but after
How you doin' I'm Mr. Mos I'm back
Timb are you on it
Timb are you on it
Give me some
Is this what you wanted?
Is this what you wanted?
Oh
but I've never been sea sick
Yeah, knock me I knock ya face off
Life's a crazy bitch, Grace Jones
Mind of a genius, with a heart of stone
C4, Mr
about three miles
and you're now entering the infamous Lil Havana
Now I know yall studio gangsters be vibing off the movie Scarface
But the wrong
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