[Chorus: Bushwick Bill]
You can't impress me with no bullshit threats
I'll squabble—
You can't impress me with no bullshit threats
I'll squabble—
You can't impress me with no bullshit threats
I'll squabble—
You can't impress me with no bullshit threats
I'll squabble—
You can't impress me with no bullshit threats
I'll squabble any motherfucker out your set, motherfucker
[Verse 1: Lil Debo]
Born in the North, buck, I grew up in Tennessee
Go on the fucking murder and the robbing and it's killing me
I'm tried to coming up for the finer things in my life
I'm straight from the landmark, I thought it, I'd make it right
I start as a little man, the man that I understand
I stayеd out of hands for commands that my daddy said
A month or two settin' me, and I'm livin' in the street
By jookin' up showing somе young hoes, so just let it be
Many years like to come ain't what it just seem to be
I did not take heat to the things that can't easily
Now that I'm down with a neighborhood, understood
The show won't realize until he's in brotherhood
Or locked in a jail cell, or maybe in other hell
But I prefer jail cell, so can't fuckin' make my bail
Free again, like the same, a nigga just in the hood
Don't fuck with Lil Debo or the AK gone come spray your hood
[Chorus: Bushwick Bill & Brotha Lynch Hung]
You can't impress me with no bullshit threats
I'll squabble any motherfucker out your set, motherfucker
It's E.B.K. everyday, all day, to the day I die
It's E.B.K. everyday, all day, to the day I die
[Verse 2: Big Debo]
Standin' on the fuckin' corner, scopin' out some busters, I'ma lay down in the city street, make 'em kiss the concrete
Lynchin' deep, M.J. down, with this murder shit
211, 187, murder, killin', is my clique, watch me 'cause I'm comin' up
When I let the gauge buckshot from my Glock 'cause I keep it cocked
Redrum here it come, I think I'm losin' my fuckin' mind
Time to leave some bodies bein' the victim of my fuckin' nine
Millimeter is the solver, to take care of my fuckin' problems
See a buster havin' nice, lookin' fresh, I gotta rob him
[Bridge: Big Debo]
LeMoyne niggas on the creep with them yalks
You can talk your ass off
We gon' blow your ass off
LeMoyne niggas on the creep with them yalks
You can talk your ass off
We gon' blow your ass off
[Verse 3: Lil Gin]
How in the fuck you figure that you could be straight with me?
Consider me crooked as hell, I'm bustin' a cap in your face, bitch, 'cause you's a snail
I'm hangin' with the niggas only down with me
The Triple Six, and Gimisum, and Huston niggas down on Mash Ville Street
And we can fuck up on a trick and smuggle his ass in the ditch
My niggas lugging AK's for the bills, let's start some shit
Now watch my hoes take you out 'cause I'm a pimp
My leg's kinda tired so I'm walkin' with a limp
I take my dirty ho international, stackin' more
This nigga tried to rob me, but I caught him creepin' up outta my door
I grabbed some needles, then I stuck 'em in his butt
I tied him to the chair, until his eyes closed up
It's just like playin' spades with a handful of hearts
Oh, but I'm the Lil' Joker, that's cuttin' your fuckin' dome
Obituary, niggas scary, lames very, that ho's gettin' buried
[Verse 4: Mr. Slicc]
I won't concern their moanin', phony
Got them bitches yawnin', groanin', miss them fried mornings
Slicc, ever known Slicc? That's me, motherfucker
Bullets they pop in your back for one of you niggas try to step up
No mercy for my enemies, no mercy for thy soul
No mercy for thy shake junt, no mercy for my hoes
Now as I continue to meet the lyrical difficult bitches, I'm pimpin' in Memphis, now testin' them out on the game to see the sight with slicc-ness
Russian like roulettes, when I start to reck, shoot you four-five Glocks, nigga, hit the deck
I'm robbin', that nina fiend for fun to the fence on our terrace
We blend in like mirrors, so jackers don't get near us
Killers, players, slappin' 'em with a huff, blaze a blunt, with a rush, cracker jack we case 'em tightly
[Outro]
We some straight up murderers, nigga
We kickin' down them doors
We some straight up murderers
We lay your kids and your mammy on the floor
We some straight up murderers, nigga
We kickin' down them doors
We some straight up murderers
We lay your kids and your mammy on the floor, ho
