I walk in hell, bucking and fighting, scratching and biting Throwing bows, showing gold's, and smoking dro's Drinking yak in the back, presidential Hand in hand with the devil, my team imperial We don't hang with that busta they call Miracle The First Disciple, 30 shots from the rifle Grab his soul like a reaper A.k.a. better known as Lil' Peter Light 'em up with the powder Best believe I'm a rider The Pastor said sic him and whoever else with 'em And watch me and my boys go and flip him, we ready
(Pastor Troy) I think somebody's bout to die (4x then to background of hook)
Hook: 4x
You say you want me, but you betta brang yo army Dez Georgia Rebels ain't gone let nobody harm me
Verse 2: Blackout
Killa, disabled, stable, mentally challenged the name 'em But yet I manage over God given talents Enter near it, cause ravage and repercussions, and damages Pimpin' at them, Iceberg slim, seeking Titanic Creeping steady slow Bobin' and weavin' we broke a do' Complication rules the nation so I roll while I smoke This one goes out to my folk This one they caught in they smoke Bungey jumping, hang gliding, and sliding of ski slopes Went from selling busta's dope, over used to be coke I can't cope, cut throat, rhymes over dope I go fo' broke
Verse 3: Pinhead
Smoking on that reefer, with the street sweepers Suckers I got wiped up can't run from the grand reaper Peep a, Miracle game so lame that you can't show You tried to steal a track from the Pastor and got caught I brought my freaking folks My folks that keep it real We drinking on that Brandi and we handy with the steel Better guard yo grill, hard to kill, like Steven Segal Cause when I see him fall, I'ma shatter his brains against the wall
(Pastor Troy)
I think somebody's bout to die 4x then to background of hook
Hook: 4x
You say you want me, but you betta brang yo army Dez Georgia rebels ain't gone let nobody harm me
Verse 4: Pastor Troy
Okay they got me last and I'm mad And I'm ready to fight One hundred eighty pounds strong, but watch how I bite They takin flight, cause this buster ackin' like my amigo Hit 'em seventeen times with that chrome desert eagle These my people, in Georgia, ignore ya, I can't Get dumped off in Miami riding on candy paint Now would you believe I got a body in my trunk? I'm crunk out the window, hell yeah!, I shot the punk The first to dump, the first one that punk scatter I'm high I'm drunk, put I'm still labeled that Pastor So any bastard, that got plans to harm me You best of be ready cause I got a army
(Pastor Troy)
I think somebody's bout to die 4x then to background of hook