I'm at your door, your eyes are like, "Why are you here?"
Judging by my steel, I got something to do here
Give up the money or the angel cries two tears
Front of your crib sounding like Chinese New Year
Bratt! Bratt! Bratt! Bratt!
Bratt! Bratt! Cah-cah-cah-cah!
Bratt! Bratt! Bratt! Bratt!
Bratt! Bratt! Cah-cah-cah-cah!

Mask on face, Glock in hand
I was in and out of homes like the Orkin Man
Never listen to my parents like an orphan man
Strong finger on the trigger like it's in dwarf's hands
Confiscate goodies like Repo Man Sam
Make nigga kick that can
Fall victim to the Klick Klack Klan
My vixen eat ya face like she Ms. Pac-Man
My wish her command, uh, ADT's ain't stop me
Simple like ABC's
Snip, cut, yank just as easy as 1-2-3
Breaking and entry so elementary
Get what the hustlers get for tryna do what the hustlers do
Give up the cash 'fore I turn you Cookie Monster blue
And your man and them for tryna be hustlers too
Ernie and Bert, I bet them bullet holes burning and hurt, uh

I'm at your door, your eyes are like, "Why are you here?"
Judging by my steel, I got something to do here
Give up the money or the angel cries two tears
Front of your crib sounding like Chinese New Year
Bratt! Bratt! Bratt! Bratt!
Bratt! Bratt! Cah-cah-cah-cah!
Bratt! Bratt! Bratt! Bratt!
Bratt! Bratt! Cah-cah-cah-cah!

Let's play cops and robbers
And watch Heckler & Koch turn cops to martyrs
As well as niggas with plots to rob us
Try me, I'll turn this motherfucker into "Shottas"
With them 911's revvin'
Gunfire leave brethren remains like it's 9/11
And get the sounds of rounds dispensing
That clack up make 'em back up like it's invisible fencing
When I picture bits and pieces
Of bone chip and flesh, it tears me to pieces
Cooperate, escape is useless
Trust me, I'm your friend, I will talk you through this
Trick or treat niggas with hoods want the goods
I feel like Robin Hood when I share it with my hoods
Don't forget, he who plays hero gets hit
Don't let the 9 mil' riddle your wits, smarty pants

I'm at your door, your eyes are like, "Why are you here?"
Judging by my steel, I got something to do here
Give up the money or the angel cries two tears
Front of your crib sounding like Chinese New Year
Bratt! Bratt! Bratt! Bratt!
Bratt! Bratt! Cah-cah-cah-cah!
Bratt! Bratt! Bratt! Bratt!
Bratt! Bratt! Cah-cah-cah-cah!

Sympathy? I feel none, when you hear that humming
Common sense'll tell you duck and get the fuck outta harm's way
You dying will absolutely make my day
Why he had to go look cool? But he wasn't so he got betrayed
This is what I did to him, nozzle with a Sig to him
Hurried out his crib, before that took everything
Powder to pocket change, even the lint
Left the boy laying with his skin
If I didn't get you right, you better hold your pistol tight
When we meet in the afterlife, Coldchain on the block when it bleed
Rosco P, young G, I don't speak, I just squeeze
97 P will make you drop to your knees
Before you know it you'll be floating to a better place, your soul feeling free
I'm young, black and I just don't give a fuck
Big burner on my waist, drugs in the trunk
Sitting high in a truck, call me luck, come press me

I'm at your door, your eyes are like, "Why are you here?"
Judging by my steel, I got something to do here
Give up the money or the angel cries two tears
Front of your crib sounding like Chinese New Year
Bratt! Bratt! Bratt! Bratt!
Bratt! Bratt! Cah-cah-cah-cah!
Bratt! Bratt! Bratt! Bratt!
Bratt! Bratt! Cah-cah-cah-cah!
Bratt! Bratt! Bratt! Bratt!
Bratt! Bratt! Cah-cah-cah-cah!
Bratt! Bratt! Bratt! Bratt!
Bratt! Bratt! Cah-cah-cah-cah!

Copyright: Cloud9, Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): A Porter, Gene Thornton Jr, Pharrell Williams, Terrance Thornton