No more Mr. nice guy
I'm a cyclops, open up my third eye
Blood stains on my shirt, like it's hair dye
Aiming through the scope, that's my dead eye
I don't give a f*ck
I-keep-i-keep throwing up
I'm wit isai and we strapped, bitch u know we bouta hunt
We got capri in the back, c-c-choppa let it bust
Put that bullet through his chest, I dont think think shit enough
No more mr nice guy
Bitch i up the pole
Yeah u might die
Walk wit a strap
Afflicted u know we never lack
Kick, back
We gon leave that pussy running back
Yeah, yeah
I cant fall, down
Bitch i up that pole, now
I cant let my bros, down
If he talk, down
Leave him on the f*cking floor
I got racks, now
But im still wanting some more
No, it will never work out
I'll send a couple bullets 2 u
I'll make it worse now
No, it will never work out
I'll send a couple bullets 2 u
I'll make it worse now
He wont talk-
He wont talk no
Imma bring the chop out
He getting stomped down
Pussy getting blocked out
He gon hide when i pull up with that glock
If he talk get shot
Imma put him in a shock
No more Mr. nice guy
I'm a cyclops, open up my third eye
Blood stains on my shirt, like it's hair dye
Aiming thru da scope, that's my dead eye
No more Mr. nice guy
I'm a cyclops, open up my third eye
Blood stains on my shirt, like it's hair dye
Aiming thru da scope, that's my dead eye