Verse:

Layin' in the cut, Scott Baio cats on coke, weed, shrooms, molly pills
Gun tote, you get your back roped
You'd be in ICU, suckin' down tubes, I'm a hustling dude, even do bags for huffin' glue!
I bag anything call me Baby Ozzy, my Pops moved 300 pounds like David Crosby
I'm flattered by the imitations, Satanic initiations
My Desert Eagle serve your respiratory limitations
Yeah but why you spit blood from every project to club, my homies rebels from Metal kids to bitter thugs
I turn winter 'cause it got no feelins, I was born dead all my goons are concealin' these fuckin' squealers!
I came out the womb with cuffs born guilty
Undisputed I'm scandalous homie come out and try to kill me!
They call me Driller Killer, sleepers put a 64, Crenshaw to NYC my spit's raw!

Outro:

Took a few horses, that Monday night football, but forget about scores when will you end up in a camp?
I need money!
What horses? What games?
I'm broke and I ain't have any money, every son of a bitch around here that owes me money paid me, maybe I can do something!