[Intro: Rick Hyde]
Uh-huh, yeah, it's Ricky
Uh
[Chorus: Rick Hyde]
The news sayin' he was shot down (Brrap)
Another day, another knockdown (Another day, another knockdown)
All the losses that I took, all the people that looked over me, they thought that I was knocked down (They thought I was down, nigga)
Now I'm comin' for my spot now (Now I'm coming for my spot)
If you in it, you'll get knocked down (Brrap)
The lil' homies catchin' knockdown (Brr)
Another day, another knockdown (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
Another day, another knockdown
[Verse 1: Rick Hyde]
These bullets ain't got no names on 'em, it's graves on 'em (Brrap)
Bradley Bill, I shoot as soon as I raise on 'em (Doot, doot, doot)
You see a nigga true colors when you fade on 'em (You fade on)
Caught his road, I done paid for him, talkin' waves for him
Oh well, in small bodies now, the house crowded
'Cause where I'm from, it's no love like your spouse doubtin'
My youngin' got so many tags that he stop countin'
One button'll make him go bomb like he hot routin'
The money good when it's stockpilin' (Stockpilin')
And they sayin' look, bitch, it's all time and my three letters are diamond
I remember all the hard times when we was all grindin' now it's kill everything even soft time
[Chorus: Rick Hyde]
The news sayin' he was shot down (Brrap)
Another day, another knockdown (Another day, another knockdown)
All the losses that I took, all the people that looked over me, they thought that I was knocked down (They thought I was down, nigga)
Now I'm comin' for my spot now (Now I'm coming for my spot)
If you in it, you'll get knocked down (Brrap)
The lil' homies catchin' knockdown (Brr)
Another day, another knockdown (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
Another day, another knockdown
[Verse 2: Boldy James]
The bigger they are, the bigger the drum and the AR
Smaller the problem, get cropped, your chest full of hollow tips
If you was really on them drills, it'll sound like this
All my youngins in the field, and they quick to knock down some shit
Up that extendo, let off thirty two rounds of dick
Pick up your gun, we'll be flarin', police never even found the sticks
I'm on my shit or die before I come up off my shit (Blockworks)
When it come to countin' strips, you know I'm so all about my chips
Bo Jackson, if it ain't the switch, you know it's double action
My Glock done caught my niggas slippin' that the Bubble Brothers
Know we gon' kill for one another, 'cause we love each other
Long live Jumane, M.O.B., that's my other brother
The nervin' niggas always false flaggin' on murder victims
All that servin' he claim he doin', but can he serve a sentence?
Can't even swim, that's what he get from all that burnin' bridges
Everybody claimin' they some killers, they must [?] to do
What else? Let's get it
