DTP we got them guns that go Yea I'm all about that pistol player, cold blooded killer Niggaz recognize my name, I dub the young dealer You better tell ya man that with the gauges I'm nice Ill shoot up y'all white shirts until y'all look like dikes But

I got a bunch of bullets and a bag of guns I pass 'em to my niggaz c'mon Now tell me what y'all smoking What kinda heat y'all holdin' Well is your creep move potent We got the plan in motion Want to get high, come smoke with me Smoke with me, light it up

Standin' outside, y'all It's raining, children Gettin' soaking wet And it's raining, y'all Been put out, y'all Nowhere to go, children People all ask me, son Tell me what's wrong with you Tell 'em I've been sick, y'all, yeah

Twenty four karat magic in the air Head to toe so player Put your pinky rings up to the moon Girls, what y'all trying to do? Oh they don't know? (Go on tell 'em) So many pretty girls around me and they waking up the rocket (keep up) Why you mad, fix ya

It may not mean nothing to y'all, But understand nothing was done for me, So I don't plan on stopping at all, I want this s*** forever mayne, ever mayne, ever mayne, I'm shutting s*** down at the mall, And telling every girl she the one for me, And I

Ya know what I mean Busta Rhymes in the place y'all Let me tell ya a little something, Yeah, alright Busta 1995, this year I want One of them Crazy, Sexy-Cool women Ya know what I'm sayin' One of them real crazy, just sexy

Who why'all talkin to man? Check it out, check it out This here goes out To all the niggaz that be fuckin mad bitches In other niggaz cribs Thinkin shit is sweet Nigga creep up on your ass, hahaha Live niggaz respect it, check it