Dissin'

Boy stop all that dissing

Fuck you aint heard how niggas die or niggas come up missing

This thirty dirty, love my Taurus, six shots in my

Smith and

I know that lor shit ain't enough, them young niggas tote switches

But two shots to the head a kill any nigga who living

And I go where I wanna got my passport in the trenches

Niggas get shot and they be extra gangsta or some bitches

I pop these Percocet's cuz of deaths, that a nigga witnessed

Them deaths it come with stress, paranoia and body tension

No rest until all breath leave the bodies of opposition

My brethren, dem my members, my Cuttas it ain't no difference