Theres gonna be alot of slow singin
And flower bringin
If my burgular alarm starts ringin
Whatcha think all the guns is for?
All purpose war got the rottweilers by the door
And I feed em gun powder so they can devour
The criminals tryin to drop my decimals
Damn.. niggaz wanna stick my for my c.r.e.a.m.
And in a dream things aint always how it seems
Its the ones that smoke blunts witcha
See your picture, now they wanna
Grab they guns and come and getcha
Betcha biggie wont slip
I got the calico with the black talions loaded in the clip
So I can rip through the ligaments
Put they bodies in a bad prediciment
Where all the foul niggas went
Touch my cheddar, feel my beretta
Buck with what I had you with
You mother****ers betta duck