[00:01.23]All you sure ass bitch-ass niggas out here, got the game ****ed up
[00:05.73]All this old friendly ass bitch-ass shit, bitches
[00:08.55]Ain't nothing friendly about the mother****ing game
[00:11.25]You understand me, if you listen
[00:13.02]I'ma tell you right
[00:14.22]Open your mother****ing ears
[00:15.42]Bitch, it ain't fair but somebody got to do it, know
[00:18.33]I'msaying [Black Mike]
[00:19.65]I came from underground, where my hood resigned
[00:22.02]Nothing left but the bad and ugly cause the good done died
[00:24.48]We tried laying low bitches want to cross them lines
[00:26.91]So when I'm saying so you getting bumped off this time
[00:29.31]Bitch a throw away,
[00:30.42]I'm looking for the gun in your house
[00:31.89]To kill your family for some shit they ain't know nothing about
[00:34.35]We running the south, while other bitches running they mouth
[00:36.90]If you smart, you'll take cover cause we come in your route
[00:39.27]Cause when we ride you could best believe there's guns in sight
[00:41.79]How many times mama cried cause her sons done died
[00:44.31]I pull my nine out, all of my barrels are fouled out
[00:46.83]So the bullets that
[00:47.70]I bust the feds don't find out
[00:49.35]Which gun, which nigga, which figga points to the trigger man
[00:52.05]Still well connected not worried about who's the bigger man
[00:54.51]Z-Ro, my nigga man
[00:55.80]Pharoah, the
[00:56.46]Killa Klan
[00:57.15]I'm Black
[00:57.60]Mike, Network for life, ain't no realer jam [Chorus]
[00:59.64]We make sure the dirty work get done
[01:01.74]Real gun, popping them although it weighs a ton
[01:04.08]Scratch makers, bitches we killers
[01:06.06]Aggravated guerillas, been pimping in this bicth for scrilla
[01:09.48]We make sure the dirty work get done
[01:11.61]Real gun, popping them although it weighs a ton
[01:13.98]Scratch makers, bitches we killers
[01:15.96]Putting heads on pillows
[01:17.04]Bitches around and weep like a willow, we cap peelers [Pharoah]
[01:19.65]King shots, killer greed penn, money hard
[01:21.81]Bitches to sleep, murdering a kingpin
[01:23.64]My composer, a soldier, you can call me one
[01:26.10]When it's time to ride you know
[01:27.24]I'm ready to activate my gun
[01:28.56]Straight head shots, toe tagged in a body bag
[01:31.14]And the outcome you stuck with, if
[01:32.82]I got to blast
[01:33.45]I'm coming to get you, pull your punk ass out the picture
[01:35.91]And fix the braids on your head, that means
[01:37.47]I'ma get richer
[01:38.49]P-H-A-R-O-
[01:39.84]A-H, now you know
[01:41.40]My mother****ing name
[01:42.39]I never play fake
[01:43.47]Easy does it, do it easy when
[01:45.18]I execute
[01:45.84]To that bitch and the darkside when my weapon shoot
[01:48.30]Shoot again and feel like
[01:49.98]I just made boy
[01:50.85]With no evidence, to be found
[01:52.44]I remain calm
[01:53.31]Murdering edition,
[01:54.18]I make a mother****er disappear
[01:55.77]Slip the clip in, open fire then dripping him [Chorus] [Z-Ro]
[02:18.45]I put stitches in the general son of a bitch when he bump up
[02:21.06]Running to the trunk for the pump,
[02:22.20]I'm already ready to dump
[02:23.40]I've been working dirty, knocking busters for being surety
[02:25.80]So I'm at your dome cussing like
[02:27.12]James, you ain't worthy
[02:28.32]Like a little old girly perpetrating a man
[02:30.18]Dude we taking over this ****ing city and here to demonstrate demands
[02:32.79]And **** the down south gangsta
[02:34.26]R-A-P, 1990
[02:36.00]Started with
[02:36.48]Street Military and
[02:37.56]K-A-G We toe tagging, body bagging, sagging and bragging
[02:40.50]**** it up inflate it down, you damn shot and flipped the meat wagon
[02:43.23]So save me some son of a guns, when it's over
[02:45.45]We one of the ones on the top, haters smell it and running to come
[02:48.39]Trying to drop a dime on us, or trying to take us out
[02:50.52]After we deal with it we rap about it and then it make us hot
[02:53.01]****ing your crime rate and murder rate, running up on
[02:55.26]Houston Texas
[02:55.89]Well it be ****ing y'all for trying to funk us on a burning day [Chorus x2]

All you sure ass bitch-ass niggas out here, got the game ****ed up
All this old friendly ass bitch-ass shit, bitches
Ain't nothing friendly about the mother****ing game
You understand me, if you listen
I'ma tell you right
Open your mother****ing ears
Bitch, it ain't fair but somebody got to do it, know
I'msaying
I came from underground, where my hood resigned
Nothing left but the bad and ugly cause the good done died
We tried laying low bitches want to cross them lines
So when I'm saying so you getting bumped off this time
Bitch a throw away,
I'm looking for the gun in your house
To kill your family for some shit they ain't know nothing about
We running the south, while other bitches running they mouth
If you smart, you'll take cover cause we come in your route
Cause when we ride you could best believe there's guns in sight
How many times mama cried cause her sons done died
I pull my nine out, all of my barrels are fouled out
So the bullets that
I bust the feds don't find out
Which gun, which nigga, which figga points to the trigger man
Still well connected not worried about who's the bigger man
Z-Ro, my nigga man
Pharoah, the
Killa Klan
I'm Black
Mike, Network for life, ain't no realer jam
We make sure the dirty work get done
Real gun, popping them although it weighs a ton
Scratch makers, bitches we killers
Aggravated guerillas, been pimping in this bicth for scrilla
We make sure the dirty work get done
Real gun, popping them although it weighs a ton
Scratch makers, bitches we killers
Putting heads on pillows
Bitches around and weep like a willow, we cap peelers
King shots, killer greed penn, money hard
Bitches to sleep, murdering a kingpin
My composer, a soldier, you can call me one
When it's time to ride you know
I'm ready to activate my gun
Straight head shots, toe tagged in a body bag
And the outcome you stuck with, if
I got to blast
I'm coming to get you, pull your punk ass out the picture
And fix the braids on your head, that means
I'ma get richer
P-H-A-R-O-
A-H, now you know
My mother****ing name
I never play fake
Easy does it, do it easy when
I execute
To that bitch and the darkside when my weapon shoot
Shoot again and feel like
I just made boy
With no evidence, to be found
I remain calm
Murdering edition,
I make a mother****er disappear
Slip the clip in, open fire then dripping him
I put stitches in the general son of a bitch when he bump up
Running to the trunk for the pump,
I'm already ready to dump
I've been working dirty, knocking busters for being surety
So I'm at your dome cussing like
James, you ain't worthy
Like a little old girly perpetrating a man
Dude we taking over this ****ing city and here to demonstrate demands
And **** the down south gangsta
R-A-P, 1990
Started with
Street Military and
K-A-G We toe tagging, body bagging, sagging and bragging
**** it up inflate it down, you damn shot and flipped the meat wagon
So save me some son of a guns, when it's over
We one of the ones on the top, haters smell it and running to come
Trying to drop a dime on us, or trying to take us out
After we deal with it we rap about it and then it make us hot
****ing your crime rate and murder rate, running up on
Houston Texas
Well it be ****ing y'all for trying to funk us on a burning day