Bullets Go Straight to Ya Head I'm Rebel, I'm Psycho, and I'm Mad Got Ak-47 On My Hand Got a Coffins, and Enemies Will Be Dead
Put Choppa In Your Face And Yeah, Bitches Come We Don't Chase Swazi Gold Smoking Everyday The Throne Is Ours, You Better Getaway
She Wanna Puff With All Gang She Loves Party We Pf Gang They Copy Our Style and Our Slang You Better Protect Ya Neck Like Wu-Tang Bang-Bang, And We Gangbang
My cash Go Straight on My Piggybank You're No Value, Your Schedule is Still Blank Gold Is My Name, Call Me Shabaa Ranks
Music is My Passion And It is My Profession I've Been Killing in Fashion They See My Progression They Scared My Reaction I'm Still Get Connection I Make My Own Correction When I Make My Reflection
You can Wear Bulletvest My Bullets Go Straight To Your Chest We Drop Bombs To Ya Block As Test Like Pablo Making Money Fast! Bless
Bullets, Bullets, Bullets, Bullets Any Rhymes Making Me Stupid, Stupid Stupid With My Niggas To See any Idea To Get High We Want To See Everything Fly I Was Woken Up after 4 But, Before 2 I can Die
Bad Bitches Know Me More Beats Crown Me They Say I'm Killing But Works like Shao-Lin
May-Day, May-Day Lost Bullets, São Asneiras May Day, May Day Encarnei a Dupla Marley & Keita
Real Niggas By My Side, I'm Example I Talk About Monsters Nigga, We From Jungle
Me & Music Julieta & Romeo Pen & Papper Samaritans and Hebreu