"Yeah, I don't got no sense, bítch, I'm dumb
Get your people, get your guns
Yeah, bítch, yeah, ah
Pop out, yeah
What you wanna do?
I got the glizzy with them 50 shots, we spin on any block
Lil' homie he get at your top, and hit you with every shot
We them glizzy boys, yeah, we only carry Glocks
See him right here? This bítch buried a couple opps
Got the díck on the Glock
I done ran through a couple shots
I mean ran through a couple thots
I done fúcked up a couple pots
The people hate me, they ran in a couple spots
They see a nígga be rappin' and knowing I'm finna pop
Baby mama want fúck me, heard that I'm getting guap
All my opp want be cool, 'cause they heard that I'm sending shots
But I'm a D Boy, I'm special Ed
All I hang around is rétards
We get you popped then pop a perc, it's time to recharge
Pick that chop up (pick that chop up)
Let it rip off
Now pick your partner (who he?)
We hit his chest first, then his head
Gun him down like a expert, make sure he dead
And bítch, I'm on that same block, let 'em know that we ain't scared
You say you spin 'round here, I'm just surprised that you ain't dead
'Cause the last nígga spin got hit all in his head
And hit all in his back, his shoulder, and his leg
But hold on, girl, why you said that low?
'Cause the police watching and I don't want them to know
Plus the opps trippin', got my gun at every show
I even got this bítch when I'm walking in the store
You heard that he want kill me, man, it's probably 'bout a hoe
The world may never know
But if he play with me, I hit him with that glizzy (with that glizzy)
A couple shots'll knock a nígga out his misery (out his misery)
And if you spin, you better spin 'til you get dizzy (you better spin 'til you get tired)
I don't got no time for a hoe 'cause I be busy ('cause I be busy)"