We Slum

Please don't make me Please don't make me take off the safety I run things, see, things don't run me Stuck in the bottom of the bottom, nigga You don't want no problems 'cause I'm gon' to get 'em, got 'em Beam down, red dot 'em, I'm serving Red Robins Just as soon as I spot 'em, adios, he hauled it You know Fatt, he 'bought it, matter fact, reroute it 'Fore I send them bullets flying, crashing like I killed the pilot They gon' have to X-File it, another nigga missing Where he at? Shit, I don't know, Tupelo, Mississippi Hey, somebody better help him or they gon' have to ship him To the ER to see Abby, baby girl gon' snitch him Throwing hundreds like I'm pitching I got it, I'm a rich one Bet whatever I'm leaving this motherfucker with a thick one I don't know you, bitch, you tripping Bust this nut and I'm dipping Out of sight, out of mind, another fucking dimension I'm a nut with this pimping, hit it up, Hoover Cripping Shawty motherfuckin' Fatt, the potbelly mack back We slum Please don't make me take off the safety I run things, see, things don't run me We slum Please don't make me take off the safety I run things, see, things don't run me We slum Please don't make me take off the safety Please don't make me take off the safety Please don't make me take off the safety I run things, see, things don't run me We slum Please don't make me take off that safety Killers on front street, 'Bama gone crazy This the shit they did to me That's the shit that made me Weezy threw a pack out I ran it up through 8th Street (Gone) Bought it out by carving Dodging black Chargers Made it out the mud puddle Now I hustle smarter Ran up with them sticks out Boy, you know what this about (what?) New rock, kilos stuffed in the tube sock Straight drop, I'm hungry whether I ate or not It's fuck cops, a hundred orders on my block It's no stress, I done this shit here with no sweat Big TEC, push a button, shoot at your neck No flex, I really brought it up out the 'jects No test, we really at it so cut the check What's next? A hundred shooters with no vest No warning A few killers with no regrets We slum Please don't make me take off the safety I run things, see, things don't run me We slum Please don't make me take off the safety I run things, see, things don't run me We slum Please don't make me take off the safety Please don't make me take off the safety Please don't make me take off the safety I run things, see, things don't run me We slum I've been in the back, back of that Pontiac, wearing all black Sitting with a bag of smack, a duffel bag of dope A nickelbag of funk, two gats, and a dimebag of crack Shawty Fatt, nothin' but trouble, Big Henri Yeah, motherfucker, these pockets gotta get filled up So I got the box if you got the bubble Chevrolet, several day, every day Up them streets, them boys, they peddling Turn that stomach upside down with violence, that's unsettling Ten toes down since they found prints of the brown Timbs In the ground with rounds spit from pistol meddling Creek Water, bitch, made on South Eleventh Oakley or States, bitch, 231 shit Trunk Muzik, goddamnit, pop the trunk and didn't panic Waldon Park, took that shit to another planet So fuck you if you hating, homie, I got all this credit on me The streets are like wipers zoning, twisting verses, Rigatoni Sick of phonies but I never get lonely They keeping my violet And ever since Fatt closed his eyelids He became my pilot, yeah We slum Please don't make me take off the safety I run things, see, things don't run me We slum Please don't make me take off the safety I run things, see, things don't run me We slum Please don't make me take off the safety Please don't make me take off the safety Please don't make me take off the safety I run things, see, things don't run me We slum