As I bail through the woods of the southside
Terrors on nine milli chrome kill alone cause I trust no snitch
When I peel a dome and bail
Gone like hell right through the do
I'm rollin' a fat sack of red boogy boo, n***a ooh
Watch me bail n***a but you don't see me though
Cause I'm rollin' fat sacks in the back of my vehicle
But takin' a puff of the dank stuff
And enough that double O-A-E dooz me
I'm slowly loadin' up the oozy
Well now who's he
Well it's that dead motherf**ker doe
Well whatcha know comin' through with that murder mo
And I heard you know now whose been bustin' up on the garden block
You either give up the information
N***a I get shots, so n***a nah WHAT!
I guess you wanna dose of this milla
Twenty-four shots from that mommas baby killa
N***a mack hustla, cap busta, infact I'm just a mack ten
Bustin' em at your chin before I crept n***a
Welcome to your own death

Chorus x6
N***a welcome to your own death

(BUCK! For them who don't know bout loc to da brain
Them got them nine millimeter strap and true is the game) x2
So n***as miss my sicc
Some n***as don't know me, n***as don't know my click
That O-loc-double-C-O-G rip gut canibal type of shit
Plus many more caps bust
Anymore sacks to roll up, we need that high back
So n***as done load them nins and pull them high jacks
And lie back in the cut and roll another fat one up
Tack one up for loc to the brain
Them n***as that really don't give a f**k
Around and get buck, shot it up and dump in a truck and left in a cut

So n***a now whatcha gon do with a mini mack ten ten at yo gut
Plus n***as nuts and guts is what I rips for
Creepin' up in a six four impala
Mobbin' a loots all up to make you vomit from the raw gut cause
Nah what I do is let my nine do the talkin'
Leavin' you walkin' to your funeral low
Diggin'? yo smoke from the mack 1-0
I had ya pussin' just in case
I got me a mack eleven for your face that's leavin' no trace
Caps leavin' a gate and puttin' holes in a n***as neck
So watch the reeper when I creep crept
Welcome to your own death

Chorus x6
When I hit the block with a nine
Them fools better be duckin'
My n***a duck got out the car and started buckin' at n***as runnin'
Untraceable gage shells
Only worriers goin' to hell
And 5-0 they just can't swoop
See cause we mobbin' too well
My murder file done pile more than a n***a expected
See cause have of the city of Sac still ain't accepted
That I'm a pack and when I'm sweated I'ma put in work
Cause my O-T told me why Jesus got to kick up some dirt
And I'm tired of warnin' a motherf**ker about a n***a like me
When it's hard to believe
The nine millimeter comin' out my pants gonna make you dance
See that's the city and it's making a motherf**ker stress
Gotta watch your back like 24-7
Unless you wanna be livin' the rest of your life
Up in a cemetery die n***a die you'll repeat until you're buried
That nine millimeter givin' no motherf**kin' respect
Up on your back with your last breathe
Welcome to your own death

Chorus x6