[Hook: Lord Goat 2x]
Dedicated to the hustlers, creeps and drive-bys
Shitbags, project whores, in morgues and wise guys
Depressed killers who got no love, look in their eyes
If I don't survive, I'mma make history take mine
[Verse 1: Lord Goat]
Gore's voodoo, Hebrew like Zulu
Ten goons jump out, boozin' on pills from the black Isuzu
Pull out the Moo Shu pork like cymbals
Out from the project windows
My dialects like 10 shots rocked from a Jack Pinto
Dancers turnin' 18, I take 'em to Quiznos
Get the soda specials, turn Mormon pussy to nymphos
Spit the project info, you get caught like Brad Renfro
We chalk outlines, professional, homie, we carry stencils
Gangster's smile assimilate, you halfway there
Project lobotomies over some ways he says
Funny hate me now, nah, that ain't the silent majority
I'm a shitbag, trained to raisin' the housing authority
Yeah, your weapon, never step foot without a gun
The hood don't know you, you ain't been back since '91
I'm so hood, I got the maintenance man on payroll
Another K-hole, Supercoven beat heavy gay folks
[Hook 2x]
[Verse 2: Killa Sha]
Yo, words from a killer from Queens, by all means
Money and jeans, the god like to fold his green
Keep youngins on the stoop for the lookout
Beef cookout
The same residence where Sean Bell was took out
Rhyme rebel, levels peakin' in the kettle
Head on the pillow of a side, be the metal (Yeah)
Unsettled, known as a calm fellow
Codename up in the hood: Papa Geppetto (Yeah)
Keep my hoes in stilettos
Foot stay on the pedal, what more could I tell you?
Most of these niggas jello
Fronting for some draws that they can't even rip
And most niggas with they mouth ain't really 'bout shit
Fully equipped, for ones that playin' the game
Stay away from them niggas that's lame, it's hood rules
Twelve jewels for the crown of the king (Yeah)
Doin' his thing
Keepin' a hunned, nigga, it's the message I bring
[Hook 2x]
[Verse 3: Timbo King]
Vibe, nigga
I'm a gladiator, nigga, I'm glad you made it, nigga
Came from the slums, broken radiators, nigga
Crossbow strike, hit him right in his torso
Say somethin' now, bitch nigga, thought so
Goosey, sling all packs, even Lucy's
Coochies, we throwin' back UZI's from Bootsy
And hammerhead, wild OG's, from the '60's
Used to say a man ain't dead until you shitty, and pissy
Yeah, you's a crash test dummy, with ass bed money
So pass that, sonny
I'm way too advanced, y'all lookin' like ants
I'm way over y'all, it ain't over y'all