[Intro]
(We have a killer on the loose)
(Jem made it yamsayin!)

[Verse 1: Fenix Flexin]
I'ma shooter he a poodle
This F and N gon' bust a n***a's noodles
I just took this n***a bitch go get your bitch back
I be breaking hoe bitches like they Kit-Kats
I be poppin' percocets just like they Tic-Tacs
I rock designer head to toe, I like to mismatch
I'ma shoot your buff homie in the six pack
One up top for the opps you know with that
It's me and Nel, we giving hell
We talk to killers, you talk to 12
I would've dropped that bag but ain't no bail
So free my n***as out that mufuckin' cell
I'm a Sacramento slime with a mac
She ain't bring me what I want she getting slapped
You checkin' traps, she selling pussy
Can't really cut like that, you n***a rookies
She want the jewels, I wanted blue
Pop a 30, get in my mood, ayy
Bad bitch, told her, "trap for a real n***a"
She gon' go and bring it back for a real n***a
Ayy, all that gang shit, yeah, we with that
We leave a n***a missing with his bitch ass
Ayy, I need commas, I need hundons
Try to play around with me, you got the wrong one
AKs, we got chops, we got big sticks
'Bout to check another n***a off the hitlist
Boom, .40 finna clear the whole room
Doomed, n***a play with me, he need a tomb
Sweep a n***a block, we ain't need to use the broom
I sell that black shit that you can smoke up off a spoon
[Verse 2: MBNel]
If the bitch ain't suckin' dick then we kickin' her out the room
Masked up, boy, we break in n***as shit like a raccoon
You ain't never shot nobody, see you flinchin' when you shoot
I got the juice, I'm that n***a in my city bitches choose
I just got me a lil' nickle, we got the stick in it
Them boys stay posting all them guns but they ain't hit with it
Brodie just got a Glock, It got the switch in it
All you cute flexin' them guns, y'all just take pics with it
Ayy, you not my dawg, yous a poodle n***a
How many killers you know? everybody shooters n***a
Ain't got to flex, these n***as know what we do to n***as
Still ain't popped a pill before we drill before I shoot a n***a
All these guns you would've thought we had bazookas n***a
Choppa automatic, it get to spittin' like some mucus n***a
I'm in the field, pass me the ball and I'm jukin' n***as
They take you to the net
Like suckas don't know police do to n***as
I spent a thousand for these ripped jeans
All them shots them n***as sent but they ain't hit me
And brodie smoked what's his name, he in six feet
We seen him at the market and then we chase him down 6th street