[Intro: Kenzo Balla]

(Brutality)

Like, what?

Ah

Every opp shot

Like, everything dead

[Verse 1: Kenzo Balla]

Me and Setty be bendin', lurkin' through they 'jects

New opp died, I'm tryna figure who next

He got shot 'cause he was tryna flex

GPop died, took a stabbin' to the chest

DOA got the city, all these niggas fessed

Niggas better give us our respect

One false move, hollows hit his neck

Quick draw then I boom, hollows hit his chest, like

Where thе Os? Where EK? He was just MB, now hе MBK

I'm tryna run up on him, put the gun up on him, tryna boom a nigga in his face

We spot a opp, closed case

Empty the chop, don't wait

Spin through the 'Well and I'm yellin' out, "8th to the Gates"

48 'em, he thought he was safe (Ah)

Now I'm in Harlem and I'm creepin'

Ayo, Rayy, I think I see a Sweeper

With this knocker, nigga, I'm a teacher

Teach him a lesson, bitch, we gon' delete him

I'm really on that, buggin' for no reason

Don't got the knocks, then I'm really gon' beat him

On the Hill, parked up, we schemin'

Do 'em like Dotty, leave that nigga leakin'

Shh, got hit, the scene was lookin' graphic

Eight opps died, this shit shit tragic

They ain't scorin', they play for the Mavericks

My niggas blitzin', Green Bay Packers

.45 hit him, push a nigga backwards

Notti a spliff, he a ghost like Casper

Do a drill on the Lam', start blastin'

I smoke Notti, nigga, I ain't passin' (Ah)

Ayo, Setty, pass me the gun

We on the Os, we gon' do what we want

Catch lil' Bouba, throw him in the trunk

Put a shot to his mel' and leave that nigga slumped

When I hop out the V, I bet them niggas duck

Lotti was good, but we don't do no Runtz

Like, where the Sweepers? Bitch, we on a hunt

It's a no O zone, every opp gettin' punched like (Ah)

[Verse 2: Set Da Trend]

Spin through the— shh, I ain't comin' to play

Better get down when I up it and spray

I get up close on a nigga fillet

He gon' die, don't gotta be today

Might go out, like, go tomorrow anyway

Kenzo gon' flock it, I don't gotta say

Try to run but these bullets knock him out of shape

You got a problem? Say it to my face

Lil' girl was hungry, so I let her taste

(Brodie don't—) Brodie don't talk much, he get to ballin' like he got a offer

He think he hot? Okay, I'ma torch 'em

I put a O in his back, no Boston

Man, we could link up, I ain't tryna box, though

First nigga up, knock the beef out his taco

[?] think that he Macho, pause

Shots go "Grrah" (Rrah)

I'm tryna [?]

I go stupid with the trey, you would've thought I was M8V3N

Pass off, tell 'em, "Catch twenty-two shots [?]"

Like he chuckin' the deucy

Shit get [?] red dot on the toolie

Fuck a play, we shoot a movie (Grrah, grrah)

[Outro]

(Finish him)