M16

Z-Ro

And I will murder, ever bumber clot run 
Keep my hand, on my gun whoa 

I don't think they want the beef, cause these type of problems ain't fin to go away
 These friends I'm packing with me, remind ya don't ever fuck with Trae 
And if these bitches get up in you, ain't no need to pray 
Cause praying with this pain, will have you praying they take you away 
I still post up, and let niggaz know I don't bar a thang 
I'm gangstafied motherfucker, talk down and watch I make it rain 
And it ain't nothing that can stop it, I promise you that 
I put that on the Truth, my brothers and Mr. Fat Pat 
Now if they really want it, these niggaz gon have to get it 
I'm trying to put something on your mind, just so you don't forget it 
My M16, will be the reason niggaz take a loss 
When I get it out, just watch how fast this bitch'll rearrange your house 
The shit I got, will make the laws back up and get the SWAT 
But even what they got, will give it up cause these bullets be hot 
I'm like original roster, who wanna run with me 
Cause what I'm bringing out, don't think they wanna fuck with me 

And I will murder, ever bumber clot run 
Keep my hand, on my gun whoa 

I keep a heater, but I'm known for my murder 16's 
Killer speaker killer beats, so I murder 16's 
So they M16's, tote a M16 
I call it my bodyguard, cause they instance mean 
In the streets of the city, it ain't no love 
Them boys'll fuck you quick, without no glove 
I'm riding, in haters road blocks 
Them jackers don't stop, they'll blaze your whole spot 
So a nigga on spot, with the gauges on cock 
And them Orville Redenbach glocks, is on pop 
So P.O.P., I will P-O-P 
'Fore I let another mother-mother, squeeze on me 
In the H to the T-X, you better pray or be X'd 
They don't play you'll be next, you better raise your protection 
Yes son, and just to see another day it's a blessing 
So I keep a weapon, my 

And I will murder, ever bumber clot run 
Keep my hand, on my gun whoa 

Is it me glock 40, bump-bump-bump-bump nope 
Is it me 45, bump-bump-bump-bump nope 
Is it me 3-57, bump-bump-bump-bump nope 
Me M16, taping off the murder scene 
Inhaling potent doja, with muddy cup of codeine 
Me people don't even play me close, cause them don't know me 
Me don't want no company, me kick it with me lonely 
And will murder anyone of you snitches, run up on me 
But my grandmother didn't raise a killer, she raised up a Christian 
But the fact that I was already down, and people kept kicking 
Made me crazy, that's why I got no love for nobody lately 
And I told y'all once before, none of my weapons have a safety 
Ru-run up on me once, I'ma beat your ass down 
Ru-run up on me twice, I'ma heat your ass down 
Place you in another dimension, nobody can see you now 
Rest in peace, I'm the king of the streets yeah