Loot (feat. Ramirez & Black Smurf)

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

I got money on my mind, bitch, I'm blinded by the dollar signs

I'll work a fuckin' nine to five, instead of signin' dotted lines

By nine to five, I mean I've come to paint the town grey

With five fuckin' nines, tryin' to take what's mine

Which happens to be everything that I see, might be selfish of me but

If I don't pick a side, someone else is gettin' cash and pine

Dinin' and dash, scraps is rationed, slashin', gas ratchet, rashes catchin'

Rats and slashin' throat, ain't it like a Maxi-Pad soaked?

Two-eleven, one-eight-seven, send them bustas straight to heaven

If a **** talkin' shit, then he gon' meet my Smith & Wesson

Creepin' out the fuckin' darkness, smurkin' all these bastards, hoe

Fuckin' with the devils and I rose up from the flank, fo' sure

Psychopathic lunatic, I'm lookin' for a soul to steal

I put that Glock up to your grill and watch your punk-ass fuckin' squeel

Look into my eyes, see the thing that burns inside

Fuckin' with the triple six, ****, this shall be your demise

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

Haven't had to kill yet, but I was born a murderer

Triple six, my nation, I'm the red devil, chosen one

Break in through the back, give a fuck 'bout your burglar bars

When I was seventeen, remember when we would burgle cars

My favorite gun a .45, I love how it bust

Smoke leakin' out your chest, body stuffed in the trunk

I'm ridin' 'round in Holly Grove, best believe I got that strap

Can't fuck wit' you bitches, but Oddy got my back

Still on the killer clean, creep up behind shit

Memphis made a ****, so you know I'm used to violence

I feel you're owed for slugs, come play a thug

Automatic to his chest, have him coughin' up a lung

Catch a blast, my flake cash, it beat ya ass

Think fast for that four fifth, lay ya in the grass

One shot, turned into ash, so quick and fast, no joke

My ****'s soaked, stay outta my path, ****

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean and thinkin'

Like the bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C