[Hook: C-Bo]
Fuck that nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
Mag .44 put a tag on his toe
Like, that nigga gone
That nigga gone
That nigga gone
When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome
Fuck that nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
Mag .44 put a tag on his toe
Like, that nigga gone
That nigga gone
That nigga gone
When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome
[Verse 1: C-Bo]
That nigga's a bitch
That nigga's a snitch
They gon' find that nigga fucked up, duct-taped, butt-naked in a ditch
Shoulda plead the Fifth cause this might be the last deal
Better eat good cause tonight just might be your last meal
Cause my killas gon' eat that
When they see that, decease that
When they see that, release that
.40 Cal in his chest like "keep that"
If the nigga blink once, repeat that
Gon' send him to his maker
Caretaker just close the casket, even do his make-up
Fuck nigga done fucked up
And he know that when they bucked up
Had his last breath get sucked up
Then his eyes freeze and they stuck up, like
Daaaamn, dead man walking
Cause I ain't never ever seen a dead man talking
Buck 50, that's it, baby
Lorena Bobbit, now kiss the babies
My niggas lit, they sick and crazy
Busting at them fake niggas ever since the 80s
Stuffed in trash bags, duct-taped
Switchblade, you fucked mane
If you afraid of God then he'd spare your life
But to a nut, to kill you it's nothing
[Hook: C-Bo]
Fuck that nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
Mag .44 put a tag on his toe
Like, that nigga gone
That nigga gone
That nigga gone
When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome
Fuck that nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
Mag .44 put a tag on his toe
Like, that nigga gone
That nigga gone
That nigga gone
When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome
[Verse 2: Tech N9ne]
A real killer won't tell you that he comin'
That's why when you on my celly steady wolfing like a woman it's funny
Cause when you summoned the one who's stunning with gunning
Hear my governor humming the minute you get to running
It's fucked up when a nigga next of kin
Death threats, no it ain't the way you text a friend
Let's begin, he must be ready for Tech to sin
On a soyboy that must had a lot of estrogen
I was in Vegas chilling, every day just billing
Used to be homies, they tripping 'cause I made this mil' and
They wanna spray this villain, 'cause I made an outrageous killing
They want my money [yo, are they just ill and]
They ain't got no stock in this Strange shit
Made the niggas that can't hang, sit
How you claim this and got lame spit
Nigga just had to look, you can't bang, bitch!
Biting the hand that fed you was the utmost disrespect
Niggas I used to trust though, dissed the Tech
Okay, but when I bust jokes hit the deck
Ain't with me 'cause you suck? So disconnect-ed
If you think you tough, hoes get reject-ed
I'm a nigga, what, four-fifth-protect-ed
I don't give a fuck, pros get the check, nigga!
Don't be hitting my phone
Like I got something you own
Used to be young, now we grown
You didn't make it, your rhythm could never stay on
C-Bo hit me but he didn't hit you for this song
Cause you never was properly flown
So if you think that you running up on me with the chrome
That's gonna be when your children say "daddy gone"
[Hook: C-Bo]
Fuck that nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
Mag .44 put a tag on his toe
Like, that nigga gone
That nigga gone
That nigga gone
When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome
Fuck that nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
That nigga, he John Doe
Mag .44 put a tag on his toe
Like, that nigga gone
That nigga gone
That nigga gone
When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome
[Verse 3: T-Nutty]
(Look)
Bo say fuck that nigga? Then it's fuck that nigga
Can't show no love to these suckas, nigga
'Specially the ones that be talking and snitching all off on my business discussion, nigga
With the business like a Russian, nigga
Get to busting, why you fussing, nigga?
9/11, get that cussing
Got you niggas ducking, like Daffy and Plucky nigga
You's a lucky nigga, saved by the bell
Told on the homie, now we gotta pay bail
Layin' in a cell finna raise hell
Thinking bout his scrill, how to feed his kids in a white man's world
When niggas cross game it's a cold thang
Thought he got away but somebody told his whole name
Caught him with a K and a little bit of cocaine
Find out where he stay and it's on
That nigga gone, that nigga gone
Fuck that nigga, he John Doe
So it's rat-tat-tat and getting bombed on
Gorillas in the buildings walking on banana peelers
Tryna catch a nigga slipping, "there he go!" and get to tripping
Even if a nigga crippin he don't matter if he snitching
He gon have to get some stitches when the Mob gon get the job done
Fucking with top guns
You niggas acting like bitches, stay close to a fence, it's to hop one
With the shit cause I'm [top?] son, on the blocc, I still live by the code
I can't fuck with you if you ever told
Keeping it real is [a feeling to go]
READ MORE ABOUT C-BO
