Straight to your back and ribs conditions hazardous
Say a grown man can separate lust from love
She always comin back
Kick to the chest, your ribs go crack
Leaving your cranium split in half, like pie but this is a rhyme not a graph,
Talk much shit cause i never had shiti could remember being whupped in class
And we don't fucking make horrorcore, you fucking idiots
Middle finger up ready to rip out all ya ribs
Rich, 2pac and the click, smokin' blunts, loadin' clips
Then i plough my girl, my dick deep in ribs
Picking words from the top of my cranium
Cause i ain't really lift weights, i didn't need them
Ask her address she holla saks fifth
Kick then get kicked in the ribs
I pack a lip, smack a bitch, tackle her and crack her ribs
Have you with professional killas, chasing hits
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