Featuring: Juicy J
Songwriter: Juicy J Lord Infamous
Producer: DJ Paul
[Verse 1: Lord Infamous]
A black heart, no pity, no motherfuckin' love
All about the ends, stupid bitches and the drugs
The ammunition is so lethal from the future artillery
No point the doctor can't save you, see no need for the surgery
Bomb burns, scattered flesh in ya rib cage
Due to the grenade launcher attached to the 12-gauge
Still killer, one more nigga down that lighted tunnel
Cold metal, hot shells, clips that makes you stumble
Deep in the depths, creep up hoe, get ready to rumble
The hollow points, shit that be launchin' so rapidly, watchin' em stumble
Everything in silence, not a fucking mumble
You bitches you don't want to be a damn body that died from the kick of my gat
The paper ... like a (?) black jack
This game ain't clean so we have to play so dirty
Killa Man smoke a man with ya thirty-thirty
Buckshots in ya heart I bet ya and it's pointed at ya
[Hook/Samples]
[Verse 2: Juicy J]
Pointed right at ya is my fuckin' metal
Project Pat get the body bags, he bring the shovel
Level the scope out, aimin' at ya spinal cord
Fuckin' with the Juicy J, some shit a nigga can't afford
Ammunition' flyin' at ya faster than Daytona
Hollow points penetrate yo ass, you be a goner
I'm known to keep the shit quite low profile
Notorious as low down, kill ya executioner style
Buckwild ... ?
North Memphis cappin' on tricks that wanna be hard
Smile in my face, actin' like they cool with me
Jealous ass bitch well I'm goin' on a shootin' spree
Like my nigga André be scopin' at yo crew
He don't give a damn about how? Where? Who?
There is gon' be a killin' when bitches take a step
My gat's pointed at ya and you're gonna meet the death
[Hook/Samples]
A black heart, no pity, no motherfuckin' love
All about the ends, stupid bitches and the drugs
The ammunition is so lethal from the future artillery
No point the doctor can't save you, see no need for the surgery
Bomb burns, scattered flesh in ya rib cage
Due to the grenade launcher attached to the 12-gauge
Still killer, one more nigga down that lighted tunnel
Cold metal, hot shells, clips that makes you stumble
Deep in the depths, creep up hoe, get ready to rumble
The hollow points, shit that be launchin' so rapidly, watchin' em stumble
Everything in silence, not a fucking mumble
You bitches you don't want to be a damn body that died from the kick of my gat
The paper ... like a (?) black jack
This game ain't clean so we have to play so dirty
Killa Man smoke a man with ya thirty-thirty
Buckshots in ya heart I bet ya and it's pointed at ya
[Hook/Samples]
[Verse 2: Juicy J]
Pointed right at ya is my fuckin' metal
Project Pat get the body bags, he bring the shovel
Level the scope out, aimin' at ya spinal cord
Fuckin' with the Juicy J, some shit a nigga can't afford
Ammunition' flyin' at ya faster than Daytona
Hollow points penetrate yo ass, you be a goner
I'm known to keep the shit quite low profile
Notorious as low down, kill ya executioner style
Buckwild ... ?
North Memphis cappin' on tricks that wanna be hard
Smile in my face, actin' like they cool with me
Jealous ass bitch well I'm goin' on a shootin' spree
Like my nigga André be scopin' at yo crew
He don't give a damn about how? Where? Who?
There is gon' be a killin' when bitches take a step
My gat's pointed at ya and you're gonna meet the death
[Hook/Samples]