[ Featuring Mello ]
Rolling down that window
Imma get you for that pillow talk
Rolling down that window
Imma get you
When that trigger talk
Rolling up that indo I think I
Hear them spirits talk
But when I roll up in that Benzo
And get out you see guerilla walk
It's the murder master, you
Bout that yapping boy?
Bumping your gums gone get
You stretched out in traffic boy
Know how that wolf lurking,
Don't let that moon curse him
And if anybody gotta problem with it
Imma let the chopper get out and cock it and
"Pocka, pocka pocka pocka"
East coast west coast anybody killa
You thought you were brave till you faced a guerilla
They opened the cage as I displayed my displays of rage
Repent for you're sent to the grave
No bible on earth can prepare you for what
I will bring to your table and do to your spouse
Lifting and pulling all under her chest with my
Big black fingers all under her blouse
I need wiggle room for my squad
Cement trucks like the mob
I'll send them young boys through and they
Can't come home till they finish the job
I've managed to channel my anger through music
Egyptian with bricks levitate from my Voice
The victim that snapped and turned into a killer
I figured he had no way out or a choice
These are the times considered the last days
When you smell it on my clothes
You know that I'm getting blazed
Once you're in my clutches know its no escape
I hold your fate in my icy grip of death
Fight to feel your breath
You gone need a Pope and a pentagram
That's on God I'mma bust 'till the trigger jam
Rolling down that window I'mma get you
For that pillow talk
Rolling down that window I'mma get you
When that trigger talk
Rolling up that indo I think I
Hear them spirits talk
But when I roll up in that Benzo and get out
You see guerilla walk
