"Cos no matter who you are, you're still catchin bullets, god"

[Lord Jamar]

You like to taste the lead, well get your face fed

After I'm done, you rather suck on pencils

Here comes the coroner with chalk for the stencils of your body

As I walk over the shit and spit outta heart

Now brothers talk shit and can't back it

That's why I had to fit em with a full metal jacket

Peel his cap once cos I know it's all it takes

Watch the muthaphucka bawlin, his body catch the shakes (BLAST)

Just before he die, I'ma look him in his eye

Ask the nigga how he figure he was big enough to try

the muthaphuckin G-to the O-to the D

I told ya couple times that the Gods must be crazy

but ya didn't listen, so now ya on a mission

to get an autopsy, a raw C-O, ya can't stops me

Now tell me is there anybody else

before I put my AK back on the shelf

Cos I put in work like Job Corps

Niggas talk shit and get jerked and robbed for

their life by a knife or a gun

So when ya see me comin, nigga, run

"See I had to lick em" "Punk muthaphucka"

"See I had to lick em" "Punk muthaphucka"

"See I had to lick em" "Punk muthaphucka"

"See I had to lick em" "Punk muthaphucka"

"Cos no matter who you are, you're still catchin bullets, god"

*repeat*

[Sadat X]

Somebody's dead, a whole crowd formed

The cops ain't even come yet, Money's dead in the street

Somebody called his people and they come downstairs screamin

Six girls cryin wild cos Money had a child

A good dick, couldn't even stand the .44 lick

Dead quick, the funeral is strictly closed-casket

And ol' Aunt Faith, her baby fingerpaints