I'mma blam blam this big bad Heckler and slide And this is fulla allegory like it's Jekyll and Hyde The Bugatti Veyron is a hell of a ride He auto-asphyxiated with the Devil inside See me? I'm a motherfucking savage in the street I make in one hour what you average in a week See the drums, this a bad bitch marriage to the beat I'm the Bam Bam Bigelow damaging a beat It's life, motherfucker, toe tippin' like a mouse In a verse, come to worse, I'll just flip another house We're just cookin' in a motherfucking kitchen and we're out You can starve, but I'm eatin' in the middle of a drought It's a homicide, whether you believe it or not This Revolver hold six like I'm picking the dot This is free, pa, you ain't gotta pay me to box And my hands is bloody like somebody gave me the ox Muerte! I'm still a White Nigga, piece of shit, Christ killer Caucasoid mutant from the mountains with the hype trigger Question everything, piss everybody off Guerilla war, I saw the top of the shotty off Strawberry ball Jerseys, the young Paul Kersey Superstitious like black cats on floor thirteen Goons and pistols pop off clapping at your team Youthful villains of war, banished, return kings Phil Leotardo [?] We make the metal talk like C-3PO Like a viking that pray for death in the freezing cold Like hearing happy bitches call on the prison phone Professors now cook crack on the kitchen stoves Satanic acid rituals, all systems go! Hollow tips explode and whistle like a Piccolo At your dome spinnin' like a hoe on a stipper pole Ante-Up and scream squad vocals [?] in the vicious supreme box logos!