[Verse 1]

Hotboxing the whip with piff from the ziplock
 [bad word] from Big Lots, blunts from the Quick Stop
 Scheming on a plot trying to rob Mr. Big Shot
 Strip you for your little chip of the rock
 Stay equipped with the Glocks, you left for dead sifting through rocks
 Gave your girlfriend my [bad word] in a box
 All the dirt I got on my hands I should have rocks in my wristwatch
 But I pick Glocks over chocolates in the gift box
 Chase you down the staircase, pop you in the lobby
 Feed you hot slugs, each shot is a hot tamale
 Spot where we put the bodies is hot as the Mojave
 Probably time to find a new hobby
 Before cops is sending out the bloodhounds, rounding up the posse
 Reckless n****s with more records than disc jockeys
 Play their records on CNN and Hard Copy
 Play the part where they show the heart in the autopsy

[Interlude]

Everyone of you is alive, your death has got nothing to do with it. You already survived many deaths, but you don’t know anything about it. How much have you learned in this life? How much have you [bad word] learned that makes a difference?

[Verse 2]

I’m a m***********g headhunter, a cold winter to a dead summer
 Doesn’t matter the weather, I’m still a lead-dumper
 You can find the [bad word] body in the red dumpster
 20+ years, cousin couldn’t dead hunger (Still hungry, m***********s)
 See it’s the gutter that I rap
 I nickname gats, they my butterfly effect
 The boxcutter or the TEC
 Some of my brothers is on their deen, some of them provide the wet
 And some of them provide the birdos
 Jail m***********s that’ll buck you on their furlough
 [bad word] through a wall, never heard of hurdles
 Manos de Piedra, I’m Roberto, you a [bad word] herb though
 I’ve been getting money since my third show
 My new Kel-Tec is berzerko, only smoke the purple
 Y’all just [bad word] stand around in circles
 Me and Jus Allah controversial