Intro

30 clips in the gat, boy I can't miss
No I can't miss

Verse:

30 clips in the gat, boy I can't miss
Xan man, I'm a classic hood favorite
Niggas talkin' shit, boy hope you taste it
Niggas keep on fakin', look at how I made it
Smokin' gas, boy hit you like a backhand
No metal, but I'm sneakin' with a Mac 10
All my shooters got me covered like a camp tent
Speaking facts, but the truth is what you're lackin'

Uh, AR go hard, you don't wanna test
These Dutches man, feel em in your chest
I got the AR, got that shit established
These bullets heavy nigga, you don't wanna catch it
One call for the static
Got a shiv, bouta prick you like a cactus
I packed the heat, I can't be beat
Shoot the lead up in your teeth, boy
I don't need no practice

Damn man, xan man, who got it
Imma need 12 bars, better know I got it
I got you stuck talkin' who the fuck just fought ya
Crackin' like a chip, with my clips, who shot ya?
My Jesus piece a masterpiece, like Socrates boy, tell me who taught ya?
Red dot, head shot, peep the news flash
Shootin' aimless, got me brainless, tell me who's last
Too fast, don't stress, I don't need you
Hittin' licks for kicks, I'll take your kids, too
She gon' swallow these kids too
She still down on her knees too
Man, I swear it's so tragic
Never love a bitch, need to use my tactics
Cause y'all ain't fucking with my adlibs
And this dick, you need to catch it