look empty out the kel tec til ain t a shell left bullets burn i can smell flesh i can smell death i inhale the last l right on hell s steps devil s reject fuck you expect listen i got too many guns and not enough drama so i m broad day in the hood popping the llama i get the blocks from papi then i holler hasta maana eating pasta like a mobster silk prada pajamas i ve got to be out of my fucking mind i ll have b wiz sniff another fucking line and break your fucking spine i m back around graduated from the school of hard knocks and got a brick and a pistol instead of a cap and gown a couple choppa shots will back them down waving the k like look at me i am the captain now thought you had racks homie what happened now you take a loss and have more excuses than pacquiao ask around you fuck niggas i smack around my don c bulls jacket smell like a pack of loud my bitch double c it s chanel bagging now giuseppe on her feet i 8 beamer she swagging now 100 bags a week that s on average now sending cookies from cali i m waiting on a package now i only came to snatch the crown from whoever has it i don t fuck with these faggot niggas that s rapping now jump out of the coupe with something to shoot inside so run up on me you re committing suicide i built a reputation niggas can t scrutinize apcs shattered back boards hoodies superdry medusa on the buckle gator on the brim i pull up on your corner shit s spraying from a benz it s funny how you only feel betrayal from a friend it s never the enemy they hate you from within this for them niggas that play with the razors in the pen my bars sharp i write with razors in my pen my little bro will put the gauge up to your chin he gon wait till i say when but his patience s running thin look i am the illest i am the realest i ain t a rapper i am a killer i am a menace listen i have completed what you re trying to finish i m aiming at your cap trying to peel it it s the machine bitch it s the machine bitch 3