[Homicide]
Red rum on my mind, and my system full of chronic
Check on the lap and the redbull in my stomach
Wild wild Westwood, n***as love to ride
Weedie, John, Vito, we go, back to the hood Westwood I said
Whenever I got static get the A-K with the infrared
I'm makin' hoes drop like a sniper
Bitches talkin' shit I won't hesitate to strike her, Down
Actin' like a psycho from that buddah
Homicide's a killa because Homicide's a shoota
N-I-Double G-A number 9 is a killa
Bruno with the C-T-O and thats on the forilla
N***as dyin' 9 mm shells flyin'
Through a n***as dome, now the morgue is there home
Blown away by A the K, 47 reason 50 shells I can spray
Ay Homicide ain't got no static
N***a 9 never havin' no problem
Pollute got the 4-5 automatic
For the bitches always tryin' to come hard son
This is the backyard

[N***a 9]
Ay let N***a 9 on this motherfucker
S-T-H-M-E-M; where I come from
Time for some action, one for all, all for one
The back yard thicker than a constipated pigeon
Droppin' bombs like eggs from a chicken
I know a girl named Nina, black cougar, got 17 kids last name Lou
Pollute in the house, can you dig it?
Droppin' marks of like Baridi
A drive a-by comin from I kick ya head fuckin loose
From my so notty notty notty notty dreads
Longview, South Park, Westwood drinkin' Lauderdale
You thicker than this shit, I can't tell
Gangsta Blac'll whoop that bitch
Flipin n whoopin n scrapin n dumpin motherfuckers in the ditch, Chyea
It don't get no deeper, you gettin weaker
Put up your guard, this is the backyard
[Intro: Juicy J]
Mothafuckin shit don't stop
Gangsta Blac drop this shit

[Verse 1: Gangsta Blac]
I'm totally insane
I'm loosin' my fuckin mind
My eyes are gettin bigger, I think that I'm goin blind
The dope is in my veins, my mind it just can't hang
I'm loosin' my way of speach, I'm talkin' alot of slang
I slip off all in a daze my thoughts they back track
My theory is gangsta kill while sippin' on Similac
I'm loosin a lot of a weight, a drug addict no I ain't
My momma she died clean, my father I have to thank
I'm raised up a bastard child, and that's why I'm hostile
The patience I have none, a menace since ?
Created a gangsta see, now Memphis don't want me
Eventual criminal, I'm fightin' my enemy
My cap is to the side, a war is bout to start
A gangsta gets in the house, I'm flexin' with backyard

[Interlude: Juicy J]
Goddamn we gunna take a trip to Black Haven
Killaman drop that shit

[Verse 2: D.J. Paul]
It's the motherfuckin back yard crew ho
1234 hundred motherfukers at your door
You gotta go ain't a mothafuckin thang changed
Still kickin my hat to the right
But some little gang n***as wanna fight
But back to the subject of the other ho
I got a swisha, you claim you ruthless
I can't tell bitch
The shit is too mothafuckin thick
The backyard is too mothafuckin hard