What I gotta do to let y'all niggas know?
I am the nicest ever, ha
Hardcore, commercial
What you wanna do? You wanna wyle up, you wanna dance?
Don't matter to me, I got it all locked down, baby

It's not a game, it's war, plain and raw
Blood stain the wall, when I bring the chain with the saw
Bring the pain to your door like death was knockin'
Unless you got my ends, I'ma make you twins with the Headless Horseman
Hell extortion, sell your soul, live your dreams
Don't pay the cost, then, say hello to the guillotine
A killer fiends for blood, screams of thugs like
Fiends for drugs, I don't need no love
Give me your fear, money, respect, beer, honeys and sex, we're here
I'll bend them checks for years, hungry and stressed
You fuckin' with Chris, fuck Pun, dead the wrath for later
Get your calculator, the head decapitator's back forever
Can't count how many heads I had to sever
Half them niggas I keep, I put 'em back together
That's the terror, cut open your girl
And make a truss out her flesh, like Buffalo Bill
You fuckin' with reel to reel, rap axe maniac
Sound bwoy killer, hack hack chain-react
Two for one, double the death, same price
What would Big say? "Huh, you know that ain't right"

It's not a game, ha (now the leg, huh?)
We're gettin' paid, ha (now the leg, huh?)
It's still T-Squad (now the leg, huh?)
What you came for
Surgery, with the chainsaw

It's not a game, ha (now the leg, huh?)
We're gettin' paid, ha (now the leg, huh?)
It's still T-Squad (now the leg, huh?)
What you came for
Surgery, with the chainsaw

Word to 'Pac and Big, my Glock so big it can rock a bridge
Drop the midsection like the top of your wig
Ain't no bullshittin', gettin' the full treatment
Special two heated missiles, 'til your crew's leavin' with you
I rip you in half, blast that ass through a glass window
Laugh a little (ha-ha), and dash in the S-Class limo'
That's how we do it in the South Boogie
Where tough rough rookies get snuffed out for talkin' loud to me
Why should I even consider your crew? Shit on your crew
Get rid of your crew, what I'm fittin' to do
I split you in two, leave you impaired when I blast the shotty
Rip it like dope and leave you there with half your body
We Rowdy like Roddy, probably robbin' your stash
Catch a body like Charlie up North, stashin' knives up my ass
Survivin' the task, we the last ones left
Blast them TECs with clips, fast as fast'll spit
Add some tips for any bastard bitch, pappin' shit
Watch me rep 'til the death from the bassinet, biatch

It's not a game, ha (now the leg, huh?)
We're gettin' paid, ha (now the leg, huh?)
It's still T-Squad (now the leg, huh?)
What you came for
Surgery, with the chainsaw

It's not a game, ha (now the leg, huh?)
We're gettin' paid, ha (now the leg, huh?)
It's still T-Squad (now the leg, huh?)
What you came for
Surgery, with the chainsaw

Copyright: JELLYBEAN MUSIC GROUP, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Bill Conti, Christopher Rios, Collin Anthony Dewar, Damon J. Blackman, Earl Simmons, James Elbert Phillips, Mason Betha, Michael W. Jr. Dewar, Sean Jacobs