[Intro: Tech N9ne, Mr. Stinky & RonnZfromBerlin]
Worldwide thuggin' from Jamaica to Germany, nigga!
Yow bredren, a nationwide track this, right?
My yute mi hear some likkle pussyhole a talk bout seh man a gunman!
Man a nuh gunman! Mr. Stinky a gunman seh?
Worldwide, nigga!
Scheiß auf euch verfluchte kleine Pisser!
Wir denken uns, ihr könnt uns stoppen?
Scheiße nein! From Berlin City, Germany
To Kansas City, Missouri
PLA-Yuh-A in this son of a bitch!
[Verse 1: Snug Brim]
I know you know this is Kansas City where nigga's lives don't mean shit
So step to me and immediately get ya dome split
I pack heat for days, run streets wit K's and hollows
On the concrete ya saved, you made the pill now swallow
You never thought tomorrow
You'd see me beamed up off I'm down wit a pump
Searchin' for the niggas on the hunt
Jerkin' on the trigga when I dump
It's not a game dude my killas will mangle
Anything in my range fool, when hatin' get flame move
We play the same rules, bustin' out thirty-two shots
Lookin' to murda ya block, they neva heard of you shot
Them come and servin' you, Snug Brimm get the flashin'
Innocent til I'm proven guilty, Snug Brimm get the blastin'
And fuck the homicide charge; I got Esposito
A mob figga, plus a lawyer and do work for kilos
You know the steelo, real niggas neva talk
Just listen this Duece shit comin' wit heat up out the kitchen
[Bridge: Tech N9ne]
Rough niggas in the street will bust for the bread and meat
Deuce 57 Street and seven deuce be packin' heat
Punks get the fuck away from we
'Fore we buckin' the, mothafuckin' G-U-N-Z
[Chorus: Mr. Stinky & Tech N9ne]
Dem nuh wah fuck wit us When I believe I will die
Dem nuh wah fuck wit us If any haters wanna try
Hands gon' throw, guns will bust
Real niggas run the streets wit they gats up
Everything you got and hoes gettin' snatched up
[Verse 2: Money Hungry]
If you my enemy, my energy, Yo' rhymes is elementary
Get lost in penitentiary when I begin the century
So mention me, and I'ma heat this track up
If it's a hundred of you demons I suggest you fuckin' back up
I will mack up, don't slack up, I'ma act up wrong
Any muthafucka that think he got his clown suit on
Step on, destroy ya mind you wastin' ya time
Cuz when I spit a fuckin' rhyme, I got a million in line
Now listen to me, a bitch to do me, nicknamin' me Hollow Tip
When I spittin' off clips betta kill yo click
And I'll kill ya brain if you can't maintain
Betta slow ya roll boy, really hungry ain't no ho boy
Lets just show boy, and ya know boy
I'll whoop yo ass like whoa boy
You a decoy, I'm the real thang
I'm the genius, you a pea brain
Get pissed on, and whipped on, so who you talkin' shit on
I'ma spit on, any niggas spirit that step to me
Tryin' to take my soul from under me
But I got a life time warranty
[Verse 3: Skatterman]
Its Skatterman came consistently dirty
From K.C. we're in the drought we pay fifty for birdies
Pack is short I call Snug and just give him the word he
Take ya faith before he tell on me they get him for burndry
Hustlas shoot shit, rob shit, blue shit
Hardcore convicts, mob shit, you snitch, kill 'em below ticks
New shit, knew shit, knew we crossin' the color lines
Nuff money, nuff weed, make a tought nigga color blind
We ran for curb servers then hop in and out of cars
Ran for cash wit third murders then hop in and out of bars
D12, Strange Music, Rougue Dogs, Regime
Duece Click, Dough Boys, Yung Gunz, same team
Same beams, niggas that'll split ya cherry
Vigilantes muthafucka plus permits to carry
Bitch you scary, fuck you and that bitch you married
Cross anyone I named that shit'll get you barried
[Bridge: Tech N9ne]
Rough niggas in the street will bust for the bread in me
Duece 57 Street and seven duece be packin heat
Punks get the fuck away from we
'Fore we buckin' the, mothafuckin' G-U-N-Z
[Chorus: Mr. Stinky & Tech N9ne]
Dem nuh wah fuck wit us When I believe I will die
Dem nuh wah fuck wit us If any haters wanna try
Hands gon' throw, guns will bust
Real niggas run the streets wit they gats up
Everything you got and hoes gettin' snatched up
[Verse 4: Tech N9ne]
It's all out war for the punks
Funk finna jump chumps get a lump
When I dump tunks for the biancs
Gump wanna thump over pumps in a bump
Rumps get it crunk when I skunk runts I'ma monk
What you bunk niggas want
Fuck what you thunk you sunk in a trunk
FUCK THAT, we done heard and took enough crap
Trust we bust back when muskrats bust caps
I'ma tryna touch scrath, and bring my hell to party
And for the last time motherfuck Vell Bakardy
You cannot rap wit me scrap wit me nigga to the back of me
Catastrophe hit you shits ragedy it had to be this
Tragedy shit, suck it up, don't be mad at me bitch
I'm glad to be rich you gets none wit that faggoty pitch
I'm-a ex poppin', shroom droppin', rock 'n roll star
Yous a no coppin' hoes stalkin' drunk and a old fart
Its a shame, think you quick but you heard we flow quicker
Plus the bitches don't want to fuck a black herpes-nosed nigga
THIS IS IT Y'ALL!
Dump this pussy of in a pit dog
No stackin' in hip hop it must not be his niche y'all
So take the chicken exit, Tech Ninas whats up
Next time grown folks talkin', you shut the fuck up!
BITCH!
[Outro: RonnZfromBerlin]
Yeah!
Wir sind die reudigen Vögel in diesem shit!
Wir ficken euch - punks!