| You better pray |
| When you see me put that nine up in that pussy, ho |
| Cock it back slow |
| Rock it back and forth, wait for the nut, then let my trigger go |
| BOOM! |
| Pussy-guts all over the room |
| If you ain’t seen it |
| Then you’re fiendin' |
| For the meanin' |
| Of that nina of doom |
| 2 inches in and, uh, 4 inches out |
| You back that nigga that pack that gat |
| And hit that indo-sack |
| It’s like that |
| Cannabis seteva got me stuck on stump, fool |
| All it take is a way, a fat green-bud blunt and a stunt |
| Cause it’s that nigga that work 'em nigga deep |
| And block creep |
| And witness murder, baby, kill a seed |
| Once it’ll make you vomit |
| Guts in a mama’s baby, nuts in a bottle, maybe it’s common |
| Biatches keep fuckin' and suckin' and keepin' it comin' |
| With they drama. POP! It’s baby killa season |
| Put 6 in the clip, put it up that clit |
| And watch them baby’s brains |
| Drip out that fetus |
| Bleed, it’s that nigga that kill 'em |
| I’ll fill 'em all full for that sicc reason |
| Season of da siccness broodin', got me trippin' for no reason |
| Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper |
| Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, motherfucker |
| Now eat! Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you, real, huh? |
| Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga! |
| Now eat! |
| As I creep, picture every human that I seek |
| Slabs of human meat |
| Cause my kids gotta eat |
| I lives kinda deep, dark, up in tha cut |
| Where niggas load nines, and barrel-fuck a slut |
| Nigga, what? You ain’t even seen me in my prime |
| Eatin' baby brains, baby veins, baby spines |
| I know they be cryin' when I’m cuttin' off the neck |
| I’m peelin' off the skin for some bacon-fried croquettes |
| Baby villain spine, that baby-killin' mind |
| A fifth-pound of gin cause I know I’m doin' time |
| So catch me now before I do my next crime |
| My kids' gotta eat, somebody’s baby’s on the line, nigga |
| Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper |
| Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, motherfucker |
| Now eat! Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you, real, huh? |
| Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga! |
| Now eat! |
| Get ready for the nigga shit |
| That siccer-than-sicc gut ripgut |
| Pick-a-vic-up, fuck 'em up with a couple of nine-milla slugs |
| And put 'em on the ground. Murder toll. Buck buck! |
| Slugs to the womb |
| Guts all over the room |
| That legion of doom |
| That S to the I-C-X |
| With a locc and a tech for the throat |
| And a neck full of gunsmoke it up, locc |
| One for the nigga who kills them infants and senses |
| Then this time, I hit 'em with a nine-millimeter, meter |
| Now let’s pick up me freakin' up your skin |
| Never knew nigga-meat cooked so thin! |
| So I pack me a nine-milla gat |
| And creep in the back of the 'Lac |
| With a sack of the indo |
| Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper |
| Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, motherfucker |
| Now eat! Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you nigga |
| Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga! |
| Now eat! |
| That’s right, once upon a time |
| A nigga that hella sicc up in the skids |
| With a lie for the snitch |
| As a victim’s stoned, sayin' «I'll be bones to the pussy clits» |
| They’re a baby ditch to the mastermind |
| Nine-millimeter shells, they’re blind! |
| Devils made a pact to fuck with match-to-heat, it’s one of a kind |
| Low enough to the shit got hella deep that I had to patch it |
| To a soul who had the heart to put his mama in a casket |
| Who could it be? |
| Or can he be |
| Locked up in the county |
| Cause the bounty |
| Finally found a nigga like me? |
| What’s up, my nigga? |
| Pull this trigger |
| And take my muthafuckin' legacy |
| But watch your back |
| Niggas be claimin' that they sicc |
| But really don’t know which way to go when they be smokin' up with my lunatic |
| Shiiiit, have you ever seen your mama’s cock? (yeah!) |
| Have you even seen a body drop? (yeah!) |
| Have you even loaded up your Glock? |
| Well, I could gives a fuck cause even then, nigga, you not my nigga |
| From that 24 Garden Block |
| That’s doin' time |
| For shootin' shadows up in the dark |
| And tryin' to bite before he bark |
| And when his heart stops |
| From the metal blue blocks up in the cut |
| They try to lynch my muthafucka to make some dice up out his nuts |
| And what the fuck goes thru my nigga’s mind up in his cell? |
| That 24 Deep, no sleep, much stress, nigga |
| Nigga must be livin' up in hell |
| And here I am, same muthafucka that got my nigga sicc |
| Tryin' to kill myself but slippin' more deeper into the siccness shit |
| Guess what daddy’s bringin' home for supper |
| Nigga nuts and guts and slabs of human meat, muthafucka |
| Now eat! Cause daddy’s workin' hard for you nigga |
| Killas run around everyday that’s why I’m hard for you, nigga! |
| Now eat! |