[Verse 1:] I'm sittin in the crib dreamin about Leer jets and coupes The way Salt shoops and how they sell records like Snoop Oops! I'm interrupted by a doorbell 3:52, who the hell Is this? I gets up quick Cocks my shit Stop the dogs from barkin Then proceed to walkin Its a face that I seen before My nigga Sing, we used to sling on the 16th floor Check it I look deeper I see blood up on his sneakers And his fist gripped a chrome four-fifth So I dip Nigga, is you creepin or speakin? He tells me C-Rock just got hit up at the beacon I opens up the door, pitiful Is he in critical? Retaliation for this one won't be minimal Cuz I'm a criminal Way before the rap shit Bust the gat shit Puff won't even know what happened, If it's done smoothly Silencers on the Uzi Stash in the hooptie My alibi, any cutie With a booty that don't fuck the Pop Head spinnin, reminiscin bout my man C-Rock [Chorus: repeat x2] Somebody's gotta die If I got, you gotta go Somebody's gotta die Let the gunshots blow Somebody's gotta die Nobody gotta know That I killed yo ass in the mist, kid [Verse 2:] Fillin clips he explained our situation Precisely, so we know exactly what we facin Some kid named Jason In a highway station, raggin Was braggin About how much loot and crack he stackin Rock had a grip so they formed up a clique Small crew 'Round the time I was locked up with you True indeed But yo nigga let me proceed Don't fill them clips too high Give them bullets room to breathe Damn where was I? Yeah One night in town Blew the fuck up D-Rock went home And Jay got stuck the fuck up Hit 'em twice Got 'em right for the virgin white Pistol whipped his kids And taped up his wife He said "Yo Rock, set em up", no question Wet em up no less Than 50 shots in his direction How many shots? Man nigga, I seen mad holes What kinda gats? Hitch links, Cocks, and Calicoles But fuck that I know where all them niggas rest at In the buildin hustlin And they don't be strapped Supreme in black Is downstairs, the engine runnin Find a bag to put the guns in And c'mon if yo comin [Chorus] [Verse 3:] Exchanged hugs and pounds before the throw down How its gonna go down Lay these niggas low-down Slow down Fuck all that plannin shit Run up in they cribs And make em catch the man n shit See niggas like you do ten year bids Miss the niggas they want And murder innocent kids Not I One niggas in my eye That's Jason Ain't no slugs gonna be wasted Revenge I'm tastin at the tip of my lips I can't wait to feel my clip in his hips Pass the chocolate Thai Sing ain't lie There's Jason with his back to me Talkin to his faculty I start to get a funny feelins Put the mask on in case his niggas start squealin Scream his name out Squeeze six knuckles shorter Nigga turned around holdin his daughter
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