[Intro: Al Pacino]

What's up, fool?

Okay, you wanna play rough?

Okay, say hello to my little friend

Okay

[Verse 1: Tommy Wright III]

Me and my partner TipToe 'bout to do a homicide

Crankin' up the ride, finna go out on the east side

First I roll a blunt, so rappers like us can get high off the spliff

So when we gets to cap, we won't have no pity when we kill

Rolled up on the set, real slow, with the lights off

Then I see my enemies, wanna cap 'em with the sawed-off

Busters standin' on the corner, sippin' on some Alizé

That's when I got the TEC, threw in the clip and then commence to spray

Jump back in the Chevy, burned rubber, as I left the scene

Still blazed from last night, so a killing to Tommy Wright just ain't no thang

Ballin' down Bellevue, headed to a C.T.O

Buy me a getaway, packed my bags and lay low

Go and pop the trunk and put the pump in the plastic bag

Buried in the yard of the house that my father had

Now these suckers fearin' me with rumors lurkin' on the streets

That I shot another, left his body like a refugee

Yellow tape, chalked bodies, blood on the concrete

Won't go to jail now or later, step to me, you'll meet yo' maker

[Chorus: Dr Dre, Scarface & Tommy Wright III]

Watch your back, 'cause you might get smoked

Ayy, I shot a motherfucker

(Meet yo' maker, meet yo' maker, meet yo' maker)

Watch your back, 'cause you might get smoked

Ayy, I shot a motherfucker

(Meet yo' maker, meet yo' maker, meet yo' maker)

[Verse 2: Tommy Wright III]

We was loungin' in the steamer at a light, laid back

Couple of macks tried to jack, so we had to peel some caps

I pop one in the leg, sliced the other with a knife

I don't care about spirits hauntin' me, I still be smokin' blunts, G

The other robber grabbed TipToe, tossed him out the car

They got us stuck between trucks, they done went too damn far

He grabbed TipToe by the head, put the pistol to his face

I act like I ain't give a damn, stood still in one place

Then I pointed the barrel, he pointed his and told me, "Drop the gun"

That's when he messed up, TipToe rumbled his ass, and started to run

Now yo' ass free, I'm gon' cap this fool now, not later

Run over his ass in the steamer, turn, trick

Meet yo' maker (Meet yo' maker)

[Chorus: Dr Dre, Scarface & Tommy Wright III]

Watch your back, 'cause you might get smoked

Ayy, I shot a motherfucker

(Meet yo' maker, meet yo' maker, meet yo' maker)

Watch your back, 'cause you might get smoked

[Verse 3: Shawty Pimp]

Mind of a Black Haven killer

I'm pimpin' and peelin' these women and these bitches [?], [?] ounce I'm dealin'

I'm makin' my money fast, shakin' these suckaz like when I blast

I'm hard to the pimpin' game, ain't no thang, I'm a killa, mayne

I'm constantly killin' and servin' the time for punishment

5-0 think they runnin' thangs, they don't know I'm aboutta klick

P-I-M-killa-P, stupid punk, I'm describin' me

Point-blank with the red beam, it's bound be a bloody scene

I kill like a heavy-habbit, the bud, I gotta have it

I'm drankin' & thankin' one day I might 'come a dead victim

Might die if I bust a Z, and clockin' my Glock on 'em

I'm constantly killin' these suckers, droppin' these busters, makin' them scream in pain

Stickin', and jackin', and crackin', and packin' a skull

Yeah, I'm goin' insane

To be a pimp legacy, killa instinct inside-a me

I learnt from my family, killin' can be done easily

Don't let me like catch ya slippin', a quick way to start the killin'

Shot in the head, left for dead

It's just one more

Trick that got shot up quick, so go plan a funeral

I creep in ya house, hit ya motha, and then I lynch her

Yeah, player, I got the mind of a killer

Meet yo' maker

Meet yo' maker

[Bridge]

(You die, motherfucker)

[Verse 4: TipToe]

Tippy-toe, Tippy-toe, on you with the gauge, so

Bust to the ground, take ya down, now ya feelin' assed out

Tough luck, prep-ass nigga goin' against a real pimp

Grab my shoe with a grip, bust you in yo bottom-lip

Jump in the air, come back down, drop-kick to yo skull

Put yo' ass in severe pain, killer like me ain't got no love

Put you in a bodybag, have yo' fuckin' body dragged

Down to the riverside, nigga like me ain't bar no height

Quick to jump and trip you up, think fast when I blast

Run to the back of the room, and assume that I was here to take yo cash

Nevertheless, I kill a trick, when I click, insane quick

Glock, took yo knot, get yo knees dirty for the shot

Choke 'cause ya know it's down in the back o' yo throat

Callin' up my clout, when I'm out, gotta count my cheeze

Skanks get 'em dirty, yeah I'm talkin' about their Veronice

Lead for you busters from my .38 caliber

Hit-list, think quist, scratch 'em off my calendar

'Cause, take a buss from a bullet to yo' temple

You think, you can take out a real player?

Try yo' luck, nigga