who shot ya freestyle
I welcome y'all to boot camp
Training Day
Fasten your seatbelts
Who shot ya, I don't know but you're best to call a doctor
Make sure them rookie medical surgeons can oper-rate on you
Pistol whip break the face on you, shit I does it my way like Sinatra
Let them infrared's Dalmatian dot ya
Scope'll spot ya, move wrong and I got ya
Through my vision like perennial
Creepin' to your house, you hear footsteps slowly as I tippy-toe
The tip I owe is through your window pane, I'm insane
One shot could leave 'em senseless, Marlon Wayans
Psychiatrist can't restrain the mind of a sick patient
Spray everything, not a single bullet wasted
Be patient, you gon' be meeting mad links
Put 'em in the basement
BET, I'm strapped with TNT
Follow rules every morning, this bitch coming with me, ooh
That's what they say when they see me in your coupe
Sunroof, rims spinning like a fucking hoola-hoop
You tried to play big and say "gimmie the loot"
Tables turned, now the people saying "please don't shoot"
Get out the way, label, and try to make it to safety
Cause I doubt that my shit is on safety
Spray niggas, no ifs, ands, buts, or maybes
Ride shotgun, 745 Maybe
That's Maybach for you dumb motherfuckers
I'm wise like my pops but I'm young, motherfucker
I'm the one, motherfucker, bust around hustlers
You want it? They could serve you, butler
Excuse me Ma, I ain't going for your lover
So when I fuck you, the same time I'm like "fuck you"
You're better off looking for your next sucker
Money talks, I thought you heard Chris Tucker
I ball as if I play for the Rucker
Black Widow, keep something under my pillow to buck ya
He talk about it and when the fifth touch ya, no confession, no Usher, for real
Your whole spot is a movie like Blockbuster
If I want you imma bring it to your block, busta
And make it clap, no I'm not spliff star and busta
In fact, my niggas is linemen the way they rush ya
I keep it street from Compton to Russia
Rhyme technique is something like none other
It's warfare, choke if you scared, go buy a flashlight and pray under your covers
I slaughter niggas, one hand bang, Vince Carter niggas
Young boy I'm a father figure to kids who's minds is bigger
And they pops still sprung off the hardest liquor, I'm young
Please move in orderly fashion
For the love of money and crime I got a passion
Blow your body and spine whenever I'm blastin'
Makeover your whole face, you look like a Jackson
Any one, pick one
Aye
I told you we gonna send you niggas to boot camp
Training Day
Fasten your seatbelts
The ride is rough
Lace your boots too
This is practice right here, we do this shit in our sleep
Yeah