This is a song about "Poppin mutha fuckas"

Poppin' one dead in they forehead

I don’t see them t-dum-izzle as a threat

I'm the dream catcher but nothing but nightmares i caught, go to sleep

Knocking fuckas out, time to sleep, we hounds and your blood is a sign of meat

Tryna see if real lyric spittin can buy me a porsche

Stepping out the spaceship with a mutha fucking task force

I’m lost without them, when they around i am charles sheen

But i spit so hard i make you motha fuckas lean

When i write rhymes i go blind and let the lord do his thing

Got these niggas running like the mutha fucking lions coming

And we ain't hard to find is the tales that we kick

And i be on point like a mutha fucking ice pick