Featuring: Tech N9ne

Songwriter: D-Loc the Gill God Krizz Kaliko Tech N9ne Dalima

[Verse 1: Tech N9ne]
I'm the Regime's killer secret weapon how 'bout that?
So saline niggas get to steppin' how 'bout that?
You gay bling spitters think you reppin' I doubt that
Stay out back, cause me and my niggas about scrap
When Tech is in the house "Oh my god, danger"
The Tech is in your mouth from a odd, stranger
Rejectin' niggas routes that bizarre changer
Injectin' in your spouse on your broad's banger
First infantry, cursed entity burst into me
One of the perks in this earth's 21st century
Makin you jerk mentally cause this verse meant to be
Raising my lurks snippin' he got a murks into the
Mystical medicine malis murderous mud vein
Biblical boss of the ballin' beast in the blood game
Sinner's and theres satan setting so let the slug stain
Silenty seekin' your shit salute and let the scud bang

[Hook] x2
Bang, don't consider this an ordinary thang
Tech with D-Loc and Dalima Get money mane
Jellysickle suckin' niggas in the game
They can hold us can't control us when we BANG

[Verse 2: Dalima]
(Hey) I'm the nigga that be bustin'
I'm the nigga that be crushin' your whole gang
And they don't really wanna fuck with us, duck because (we gon' part flame)
Techa nina with dalima finna beam a bitch from across the border
And I'm fuckin' with chicks who think I'm givin' restraining orders
That's some Bullshit, every nigga I know got full clips
So you better get the money cause I'm finna run a nigga like (ooh trip)
Nobody so probably yo body should move away
Lookin' so gotti soap knotty and honestly y'all gay
I'm the most modest of the local you niggas just wanna play
That's what Tech life meant for me and D-loc we fuck up the game
And sincerely clearly, I think they say it it all
Look at the way we dealin witchyou packin' niggas wanna I gotta getchu a call

[Hook]

[Verse 3: D-loc]
You can ride we ride dirty in my all white T
Then butter my 9 I had you missin' all white teeth
Nigga I let the scud bang, I'mma street and this thug twisted came
My customers love me cause I'm insane with the cookin' game
You know what I think of these motherfuckers lil' train
You must be addicted to inhalin' the smell of a cooking brain
Closed casket in the funeral home sittin'
We the main motherfuckers giving funeral homes business
Sending niggas to Allah, lucifer's home chillin'
Thought you was harbor built up enough nuts for your own killin'
And nigga be guilt like I'm thieving, when I'm dumpin' the mini fourteen and
I'm leavin' 'em leaking and weak in the middle of the street this season
Then sleep on the beat recognize we ride through the street with heat
Like a whip with no AC in the summertime bang a niggas beat
When my nigga tech n9ne the master
D-Loc and Dalima call the disaster
The world call us in you will never ever has a
Reason for your momma to call a pasteur

[Hook]
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