Lyrics (dont know if they 100% correct): Skip the talk pull ya guns out thats when the bitch comes out the dawg from the heart i slit ya throat and pull ya tongue out you fuckin with the best ill burn ya flesh until theres less than teeth, dump ya bones in rest in beef piece, hope ya rest in grief Left the wreath on ya grave and autographed it big dawg slaughters pastors during mass i dont support they masters. nina god im hittin hard as hell niggas be givin a law an L, when i get finished in gaurdin a life im harder to kill Still i will remain the pain inflictor given ya hell to reign the victor comin to get ya playin the game the same as hitler You picked the wrong nigga to fuck wit talkin that tuff shit you couldnt of been a bigger faggot if you sucked dick duck quick and catch 100 in ya temple if you blunted test the mentals and be found drowned with jus cement shoes Brothers are rappin like Iraqi soldiers Actin like they crackin boulders when they pack a cap that won't attack a blowfish Always talkin shit, players that rather balk than pitch and often counterfeit, Kings of New York on Mr. Walken's dick You make me sick to my stomach, you don't really want it Riffin like you sniffin coke but scared because you barely blunted You really done it now you got me mad Boricuas be like, Papi's bad, makin fakers cocky when I'm droppin math