Verse 3
You’ll probably never catch me packing a knife, but
I’m cutting rappers to death with all the words that
I write, the truth and the light, is what I’m representing
tonight, by the end of the night I’ll have the crowed
ready to fight, so throw ya hands up, throw ya hands up,
all my people if ya wit me go on and stand up, making inspirational
music for em killas and thugs, tell em to, put away them
heaters, stop slanging em drugs, got get them, gangstas and
riders, make songs, trying to get inside, tired of, hearing
all em sirens, can I, get a moment of silence, sick of the
violence, murders, and burglars, and curb servers, concerning
em burners ya better believe they concern us, they con earners,
with the gift to gab, ready to stab, used to be conscious
now they conscious has gone bad, they living really hard,
and quick to pull ya card, don’t make me holla, dogg,
I’m bout to get my bodyguards.