What the hell you think you're doing with that little shit
Stop it! Stop it! Don't shoot that little motherf*cker no more
100 round drum go good with the Glicky
Don't need no hitter, my lyrics ride with me
Illinois State Police got it hot in my city
I got f*ck niggas looking dumb, diddy dumb
America's most wanted cause the feds got me on the run
When I got beef I shoot targets for fun
Making power moves trying to bake a cake in my state
Flipping weights to break the real from the fake
Walk down on the f*ck nigga in my state
This your photo shoot, it was written in the scriptures
Now watch my 100 round drum flash hard like a picture
Off the tops, Ghost Coast Records, Midwest style
100 round drum go good with the Glicky
Welcome to my city, East St. Louis, Illinois
We clean riding SRTs floating on them hot wheels
Hustling trying to make a meal in my city to either kill or be killed
Best belief I keep the still, I keep my Glicky on my side
When it's time to do a homicide
Never disrespect my manhood and my pride
Only strong survive, ain't no love for the weak
Hitters eat you up like a piranha if they think you sweet
In these streets, you need a 8-ball, meet me on my pager
Motorola, I stay 10 toes down because I'm a motherf*cking soldier
Ghost Coast Records, Midwest style
I've been universal style
100 round drum go good with the Glicky
Oh really
Oh really
Oh really
100 round drum go good with the Glicky