Death Threat

[Verse 1]

Some think that I'm a flake, but I'm no fake nigga

'Cause I take a bitch, make him a witch and burn his ass at the stake

With the .44 mag', it's so simple, put it to his temple

Fuck it! I give a nigga permanent dimples

Easin' up on a fast flow, but I'll let your ass know

The product's still hot like Tabasco

Brand New Heavies on the tracks

G Rap on the wax cold bumpin', got motherfuckers doin' jumpin' jacks

You motherfuckers lost it!

I bake your ass like a cake, and all y'all flakes get frosted

'Cause when G Rap is on the mix

Niggas start shittin' bricks and turn into chicks with small dicks

So if it's lyrics with a live band (Yo, this shit is funky)

No, fuck funky, the shit hits the fan!

See, if you're steppin' to my set, you niggas get wet

Naw, fuck it! It's just a motherfuckin' death threat

[Verse 2]

Yeah! I got you bitches on lockdown

You niggas get knocked down

You're runnin' 'cause I'm gunnin' your block down, punk

So save the bitch riff 'cause my four-fifth lifts

I'm tossin' stiffs off fuckin' cliffs

Can't cope, I got you on scope, you walkin' on thin rope

So I'mma shoot 'em up like dope

'Cause to make my notes, I'mma cut throats

Bodies are thrown off boats and do a dead man's float

Straight down a river

Heh! With a bullet inside his motherfuckin' liver

Another hooker got thrown out

Stepped right into the crossfire and got her brains blown out

So you niggas better duck

'Cause when my pump's full of buckshots, I don't give a fuck

You think you're down with the murder guys?

Bullshit! Say hello to that dirt you're gonna fertilize

You wonder why the area stunk?

Homicide just found ten bones inside car trunks

When they opened the other trunks that was closed

Full of five unidentified John Does

All found dead on arrival

'Cause I pulled up slowly and made 'em holy like Bibles

They find a letter and cassette

Read and said it's just a motherfuckin' death threat

[Verse 3]

Sendin' bodies to a morgue for a freezin'

I got the motherfuckin' finger on a trigger 'cause it's nigga season

A punk tried to drop me

I left his body sloppy so they can't perform an autopsy

Dig a hole for the bitch

And put all of his pieces and bits inside a ditch

Yo! You don't think you're goin' under?

I got a bullet with ya name, ya address, and ya phone number

So if you wanna play games

I'm blowin' you the fuck out the frame!

You tried to front and got murdered last night

So now you're floatin' to the motherfuckin' light

So I'mma step to your grave and make a toast

And start shootin' at your motherfuckin' ghost

So may the Lord be wit' ya

'Cause I ain't no saint, and I don't paint no pretty pictures

It ain't nothin' but bloodshed

Stains of brains on the rug and lead slugs in your head

You wanna make me upset?

Ha! Then I'mma promise you a motherfuckin' death threat