I'm not Like you

He pulled up in a coupe, his necklace shining, arm was blinding, numberless pound in his boot

He needs niggas to strengthen his troop, confusing the street boss for a street level recruit

He's arrogant but he's willing to shoot, so I put a B-ball hoop size hole up in his suit

Another notch for the organ taker, and eight shot Swat benneli, alias the orphan maker

Not in the games, never been a sports fan, but I stuff a corpse in a garbage can for my left hand

Gang is grown, no fear is shown as the colt flicker, enemy blocks, reek of gunshots and malt liquor

Candles cover ears ring when I fire a salvo, on a mission like Muhammad and John Lee Malvo

The stakes risen, the snakes hidden, serving over a bullet and bitten, I was weightlifting in state prison

My hate risen, the Dan Wesson my palms nestled, my arms are big, you don't wanna arm wrestle

Take it to hard way, gather up your niggas and bring em, and I'll demonstrate how to properly fire an Ingram