"You know we got em Forty fives, machine guns, heavy artillery We got those grenades on your ass, nigga Boss, Black Wall Street I'm in that bulletproof Maybach nigga (Teflon Don)" Nigga talking like a G but walking like a broad I pull up at the light, pineapple in your car Nigga I shatter lives, my music camouflage I court killers at the center of my synagogue Torch in hand, extortion to the fortune five hundred From the porches to the Porsche's with the wides on it 'Fore you snitches bitch, you better put your lives on it Get you twisted by the ? with them wires on it I get my money smoking spliffs like it's Friday I'm sitting sideways like I'm in my driveway My champagne kicks, my shit three wheels You niggas six feet, we gettin' three meals [Chorus] They got jumped Forty fives, machine guns, and heavy artillery They got jumped Forty fives, machine guns, and heavy artillery Yeah I got two gun charges, two felonies, just got off probation Today motherfucker, won't budge for no charge Real nigga, I hold no grudge with no thugs Come through spraying, bullets out the McLaren They ain't meant for you, so move bitch, you hard of hearing? I speed off doing 90 with the Carter blaring Bust shots in the Cavalier like I ball with Baron Yeah I Blake Griff niggas, make stiff niggas Eminem wasn't Dr. Dre's only sick nigga Insane in the membrane like Soul Assassins Twelve gauge stop a nigga heart like a bowl of Aspirin I hold automatics, let your man hold the casket Murder game cold as Aspen, body found in the trash bin First forty-eight, they don't find me, case closed Like a rehabilitation spot in Bobby Brown nose Take em back to Boyz in da Hood when I pull the pump out Something like C-Murder on Worldstar when I dump out [Chorus] Ain't nothing changed but them bullets in my clip I still pull it, still bully niggas on the strip Beef, I cook it fully with the fifth And I ain't got no pets, I put a bullet in ya bitch A nigga with a gun in his hand who won't bust it? Like a bitch with a dick in her hand who won't suck it This is the art of war, you niggas just drawing Anything I target on is dearly departed, gone Drive by or walk up on, I just stop, breathe, aim cock squeeze Silencer on the Glock, infrared beam So your block up on machines while the pussies run and scream [Chorus: x3]