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letra de thou shall not kill - dirty (us)

[verse 1: wickett]
a lot of n-ggas got a b-tch in their blood – but they claim to be hard
till they get hit with a slug and then blood explains it all
while everyone in the hood used to – think you was hard
but it’s hard to think with your – brain in the gar-bage
i’m off the the chain when i – blast the mag
i put what’s left of your frame in a – casket bag
i put what’s left of your brain in a – plastic bag
and what ever parts remain – h-ll, the rats can have ’em
you catch h-ll in the alleys of these gump streets
they full of monkeys and money-hungry zombies
we don’t spit regular sh-t on a crunk beat
it’s boring watchin’ pits eatin’ lunch meat
i’d rather see a pit’s t–th get sunk deep, rippin’ out chunks and
so this a done deal
you don’t want it with me, you might as well bungee
jump head first off a building and hit the concrete
now, can i get an amen?… amen
if you f-ck around wit ‘wick and get your face caved in
i’m the black wes craven, my staff just cravin’
to crack, touch base, when they act dead brave and i
cod, i’ll let my bullets +moby d-ck+
they’ll be pushin’ inside of you
nuttin’, bustin’ the blood gushin’ inside of you
like road to perdition put them bullets inside of you
is what i would do, if i was you
i really wouldn’t f-ck wit’ me
playin’ me like a b-tch, your sh-t’ll get dirty
if i up the thang-thangs, finna get ugly
sh-t hit the fan mayne, sh-t get bl–dy
and when it go down – of course you’re scared
your brothers they want some – the more the merrier
if they run up, it’s just to go to the – morgue
and step into my world – at the mortuary

[verse 2: big pimp]
i leave your block wit’ your head wide open
out the window, with my ak smokin’
bro’ close your do’, expose ya to the hocus pocus
and you motherf-ckers know its bogus
(and you know it’s bogus… that’s how it is, that’s how it has to be)
and i’mma stop all you motherf-ckers from laughin’ at me
when i bust all the gl-ss in your cl-ssic caprice
instead of blastin’ me, where was you? runnin’ your lyrical catastrophe
i hit the block with the glock, cause that’s how it has to be
you ridin’ partial, blow your brains in the p-ssenger seat
you got that program and schedule, sh-t f-cker, p-ss it to me
it’s a tragedy, how i run up in the church where your pastor be
or i’mma have to see, how you layin’ right beside him in your casket bleedin’
tell them sucker emcees we havin’ m-ss this evening

[verse 3: wickett & twist]
baptized in the blood of 2pac and jesus
hollows from my glock and your glock releasin’
n-ggas from my block and your block deceasin’
can’t stop and won’t stop because we still breathin’
c-ck back and pop, n-ggas drop, it’s so easy
run up and burn up a n-gga house when he sleepin’
cut up and turned out that he’s alive when he screamin’
run up in your house and sn-tch both of your neices
sawed-off pump, push all of your t–th in
one n-gga jump, b-tch all us beefin’
one of y’all jump, b-tch all y’all bleevin'(all y’all bleevin’)
never knew the real reason what i’m shootin’ for
get off your knees, why you prayin’ to god?…
it’s too late to repent, you better off prayin’ to lucifer
what i’mma use you for, ten g’s i’ll do you for
another five i’ll do your gul, i’ll lose your gul
i ain’t k!llin’ y’all by myself
i’m like o.j. – it’s two of us(get it..two of us)
i won’t hesitate to numb you bruh, won’t hesitate to burn you bruh
i got a message… when you get to h-ll..
ask that b-tch n-gga what he k!ll my uncle for

[verse 4: mr. g-stacka]
i come through strapped with two tec-9’s
i wish a motherf-cker try to come and test mine
i put this gat so close to your back spine
when i clap iron, b-tch your back flyin’
i’m kinda gettin’ tired of sellin’ crack dimes
or sittin’ up in my house tryin’ to sack pine
or runnin’ through my hood from the one-time
who sometimes, supply the dime, for me to grind
i just wanna know, do you “feel me ni”?
c-ck that thang, throw it in the sky
i’mma let this b-tch loose if you n-ggas try
tell them ho–ss-n-ggas i ain’t scared to die
i ain’t scared to ride, i ain’t scared to taunt
my semi-automatic leavin’ n-ggas burnt
a couple motherf-ckers got hit with the gun
the other motherf-ckers wake up from the oak tree hung
b-tch, i’m dirty slum, so i ride ’round with a rusty pump
i keep it kinda close, f-ck in the trunk
when the war pop off i’m the first to dump
throw them bows in your chest like olajuwon
ain’t no stoppin’ when we ridin’ – comin’ at you chump
i’m the reason for the bleedin’ – why you actin’ dumb
cause my hollows have you hollerin’ at the top of your lungs – you filthy sc-m

[–pause – mr. g-stacka continues–]
my ‘k’ll heat-seek and knock a n-gga off his feet
and leave him face down on this hot concrete, if this b-tch want beef
then me and my n-ggas creepin’ knockin’ off his whole street – good grief
you get the picture?… now motherf-cker get your issue
cause soon as i get you, i’m usin’ my pistol, to carve and split you
and scare up your tissue, you b-tch you

[verse 5: lil’ twist]
jackin’ other n-ggas for dollars, that’s my motto
eliminatin’ p-ssy n-ggas with pistol poppin’ hollows
to say i would never – f-ck your bandana, here the block go
from bustin’ concussions with simple motherf-ckin’ pot holes
on the offense, a p-ssy eater want get to even know what i hit like
in the mist of the trigger cl!ckin’, n-ggas b-tchin’ for dear life
be prepared for war cause i’m tellin’, gunnin’ you all
carry my coat with clip, that’s what the clip said and blew you roof off
roof off, sh-t was haul by u-haul
you jump, and hit the trunk up with the pump and i do y’all
you f-ckin’ f-ggots can’t hack it, -ss backwards like rupaul
remember my n-gga, you tremblin’ get your chest blew off
these rules and regulations, to you, they do apply
so cuz is poppin’, your other option is to die
you couldn’t resist, and get blitzed at the drop of a dime
but i came for the cheese, so motherf-cker why try
n-ggas i never heard of, get murdered
i’ll pull your skirt up and show the world that you’re p-ssy
and just show what this uzi – a’ do
you motherf-ckers ain’t gon’ believe that i’mma gut ya
blow your bones out the structure, gonna show ya that i can touch ya – f-ck ya
gunnin’ y’all, then i hit ’em hard
split ’em apart when i let it off, but you’ll be better off
with flesh floatin’, open, in a ocean
holes poked in your throat and still smokin’
h-v n-gga, riverside – i get you motherf-ckers hog tied, if n-ggas try
i give a f-ck – what your men do, what you been through
why you went to the pen dude, or who you kin to
simple, i’m a fool black, shoot back where your kids go to school at
it’s hard to react when the mac go cl!ck-clack
four shots in your skull, and your b-tch back – get that?

- dirty us

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