text: Grab the 9,2 clips and run a muck!
  So I grab my gun
  A fist-full of bullets,a chest full of teflon
  Nowhere to run,so I grab my gun!
  Im sticking ice picks on the tip of your dick
  Give your testicles a swift kick aint that some shit
  Am I hard-hardcore harder than the Plymouth
  It aint no myth. Its a nigga with a spliff
  And a chrome four-fifth pressed on yo back
  So what you want nigga?
  How you wanna act?
  Im uncivilized cause I love to see niggas die
  Brains all leaking out on the street
  And the pastor preaching: he was a good man
  Played the bad man when the burner was in his hand
  Now hes singing sad songs with Elvis
  Three to the head, bout six cross the pelvis
  You fuck with the high die you die
  Youre the same motherfucker
  If you look up in the sky
  I want some old nex shit
  Suplex shit
  Hardcore sex shit
  Grab the 9, 2 clips and run a muck!
  So I grab my gun
  A fist-full of bullets,a chest full of teflon
  Nowhere to run,so I grab my gun!
  A repetitive loop all I need to display
  Solo is the proof I put it to you boy
  Hope you got the scoop
  Biggie Smalls the rap genius
  I keep the Glock by the penis
  The cleanest cut fuck sluts
  With the big humongous butts
  I used to rub a butt
  My style is Gucci like the hookers pussy
  And it dont take a lot of back talk
  To push me into flamin em
  Like that little nigga Damien
  Glock 19 to my motherfucking cranium
  Gang-thight gun toting motherfucker
  Niggas in they brains thought biggie was a sucker
  I tricked em, I gave em work then I sticked em
  I stripped em, cause niggas dont want the friction
  Told you before how I bring the drama
  Slaying Larry Johnson and his grand mama!
  Grab the 9,2 clips and run a muck!
  So I grab my gun
  A fist-full of bullets,a chest full of teflon
  Nowhere to run,so I grab my gun!
  Fuck around and feel the fury of a high nigga when I get busy, throw ya hands in the sky nigga I got the illest of the ill mentality
  Niggas be grabbing me, knowing that they rather be stabbing me
  All up in my back, tryna take my track
  When I used to sell crack I aint had problems like that
  Street rules, watch your pockets and your jewels
  A nigga front throw a gat to the fool next one to move is getting blasted
  Streets to a flows from the ill ghetto bastard
  As I release Master piece its like indecent
  Stuck to your ass like tissue when youre wiping fast
  MCs have a hard time believin
  Im marked with death hard to kill like Steven
  With Jacob Im leavin the black mans motto: You got a better chance playing lotto
  Grab the 9,2 clips and run a muck!
  So I grab my gun
  A fist-full of bullets, a chest full of teflon
  Nowhere to run, so I grab my gun!