[Skit] "Dirty how it look?" "Dadadana, like a damn snitch." ("Oh man that's cold.") "Look like you 'bout ready to go tell on somebody right damn now." (*laughing*)
(*50 Cent's "Wanksta" beat*)
[Black Child - talking] (*echo*) Word to God, fuckin snitch ass nigga 50 Cent Fuck is wrong with you nigga? Actin like you Ferrari nigga, you can't never be me Boy (uh huh), cause
[Chorus] You a snitch nigga you ain't gonna pop nothin Pay a nigga to do it, so you could tell the cops somethin 187 your "Unit", Hector Lynn and Cotch dumpin You hear the shots comin (*gunshots*) (five, 0), start runnin
[Verse 1] You knew I was comin, dumpin, who wanted a hundred rounds Didn't I stab you up?, don't make me gun you down Your whole career's nothin, but a publicity stunt Until I kill you and give you the publicity you want Yeah front page, rapper that's over paided Found under the stage, felt under from the gauge Nigga I got women that do the evil men do They got more heart than you and want no parts of you You hit chickens I used to, I fuck bitches that use you And lose you, for the loot, big fists from Hooptie Nigga you say you a gangsta, but we don't believe you I come through 134 and don't see you Pull up in somethin tinted, nothin rented Pull out the Mack 10 and dump everythin in it And ain't no witnesses, witnessin shit Except for the four fifth and you on the floor stiff (uh huh) Wanksta
[Chorus] - w/ ad libs
[Verse 2] Killin to do 'fore I die and I ain't got bullets to waste shot this nigga in the face How you call yourself Ferrari?, you don't ride like me In the hood, everyday "Ready To Die" like me How does faggot nigga do a song with B.I.G.? When he the snitch of the city, I'ma have to talk to Diddy Fifty I had a knife, you had a gun You ain't pop one shot, poked you, you called 911 What you know about AK's and AR 15's? Nothin nigga, you up in the preacher at the 113 Damn homie, you a bitch, you a snitch On your man homie, what the fuck wrong with you? I got a fourth and Beretta that says revenge is better Put holes through your leather, they have to sew you back together Black could never chirp like that bird to the cops He got a camera is his drawers and a mic is his watch (uh huh) Pussy
[Chorus]
[Black Child - talking] (*echo*) Word to God you fuckin faggot Keep playing games, go 'head drop your fuckin album I did, I'ma drop mine And I'ma do a fuckin interview with the fuckin arrestin officer nigga Don't keep playin games man Fuckin Officer William Fitzgerald from the two thirty-four nigga On 54th Street nigga, you know Stop fuckin playin games, actin like you don't know what happened nigga (*gunshots*) Word to God, this Black Child too nigga Black Child a.k.a. Ferrari Black nigga It's Murder, faggot pussy, pussy (*gunshots*)
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