Chemist it's us against them

I'm a lunatic
I got five on it once the doobie lit
We was lockin' my room door
Stuffing them Uzi clips
Runnin' with hooligans, I put in my work
Wipe the slugs and guns off with
The tip of my shirt
Two 23's, when we ride on our enemies
And hit 'em up if they don't hit me up first
And my army fatigued
It's still gunpowder on the sleeve
Niggas get shot every day, B
Pull down ya skirt before I lift it up
Show the whole world you're pussy
And how you niggas been
Some bitches since birth
Cause we them Sig Sauer boys
Hittin' em where it hurts
Twist a nigga cap back and pop a
Nigga with a squig and a squirt
He dug his own grave
I'm just revealin' the dirt
Got some bullets to chase a nigga
To the end of the earth
Until we meet again, I think, with death
I'ma flirt give her that old evil grin
And my devilish smirk

Fuck y'all niggas, what y'all wanna do? Ugh
Bumpin' my new shit, mobbin' with the crew
Ugh
Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool
Let me know if it's a problem
'cause it's solving we could do, shit

Dead bullies and Red Bull is
All in his stomach
With a couple bitches with
Whom relations ended abruptly
Grab the Mickey and the coaster and sit it
Now, I been sober a minute
Ho, tell your soldiers, "Forget it"
Spit it as cold as the frigid
Dare me to host it and shit
Just carry the flow to the clinic
Carry the coast on my shoulders
Various hoes in the whip
And they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur
Carry the dope in they britches, bury
A foe in the ocean, ugh
I can't help it, it's Tan Cressida
Gram sellers
Pantera records and bodies stuffed
In the damp cellar far from the fronting
My niggas was in the back
Yelling 'cause we came from nothing
Like everything that you can't tell us
Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off
Rap camp Camelot, cannon cocked, lick a shot
"Bop, bop!" liquor slosh, bottom of the belly
Bars lock hard
Hitting like they squabbling with
The celly grip

Fuck y'all niggas, what y'all wanna do? Ugh
Bumpin' my new shit, mobbin' with the crew
Ugh
Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool
Let me know if it's a problem
'cause it's solving we could do, shit

Smokin' all the green
Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal
Order steak, rosemary with the basil
It's too rare, get it off my table
Way I pimp, should've stuck with the shrimp
Dick stuck to her lips
The money stuck to my thumbs
I'm spittin' rounds like a drum
Bitch said her man was a bum and
He think he got that bag
Get her high and dog her ass
She tellin' me 'bout homie stash
I listen up and roll my grass
Before the blunt was even ashed, I
Hit my homie on the jack, like
"Just got the word on what the lick read"
Essex County, and he sitting on 'bout six P's
Is you 'bout it?" He say "for
Sure" and we rushed to move
Riding with my top gun
Like Tom fucking Cruise
No license behind the wheel
Blowing red signs
I push that red line before fed time
Get the flip and write a verse or two
Nah, us niggas never heard of you
Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker
I'm getting surgical
Fuck y'all niggas, what y'all wanna do? Ugh
Bumpin' my new shit, mobbin' with the crew
Ugh
Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool
Let me know if it's a problem
'cause it's solving we could do, shit

Copyright: Royalty Network, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): ALAN MAMAN, DARIEN C. DASH, DOMINIQUE MARGUIS COLE, JAMES CLAY JONES, THEBE KGOSITSILE