Huh, RM

You noticed I never asked you what you would do if you was me?

'Cause I don't really give a fuck, truthfully

I'll kill yo' ass right here, right now, if it's just you and me

Got a 60 ball up in this chopper, they all .223

Designer on my jacket, the lining in my pockets keep the bands warm

And when I'm slidin' with that Glock, it keep my hands warm

The Reapers make it rain and storm

Pussy, I come from a war-torn block

Where football jerseys was the uniform

And killin' **** was the norm

Better keep yo' lips locked

Or get yo' ass bagged up like a Ziploc

I'm a **** with influence, bitch, this ain't hip-hop

My Mexican came from upstate with a pair of flip-flops

He gon' feed a **** to the pigs after we get chopped

Mister make a plan to make him land the same day

Better pay 'cause my out-of-town shooters don't play

Think we did yo' **** better we catch yo' ass gettin' done the same way

On God

I ain't fuckin' with no snakes

Ain't nothin' charming about no snake

I don't trust a snake

I don't care how well you say you got it trained

He just ain't chose to turn on you yet

He ain't chose to bite yo' ass yet

Anybody I know got a snake

They got bit by that snake

I ain't fuckin' with it

Read the Bible, man

You know what I'm sayin'?

Tell you don't trust a snake