[mr. pookie]   Comin up tha muthafuckin block, it's tha undertaker   Jus throw yo hands in tha air, don't move a muscle I wont hesitate ta   Jus let you have it wit a few thangz   No need for runnin and duckin cause wit this missle pack,i'm takin aim   Now all these methods, need to finish him   I took my sack out my pocket and smoked a blunt as I diminished him   Intoxicated, rule number 1 pookie jus cant be faded   High off that dosha, I don told ya I was bound to make it   Niggaz smoke, forget that drama I be tellin ya   Cause me and my crooks stay on cloud 9 on tha regular   And sense we crooks, jus some killaz we motivate to get cha   Pull out that knife and slit yo throat and watch yo body shiver   Jus will peel ya, hollow points is hittin quicker   Standin ova yo body and watchin that blood spilla   Say hoe, jus have a seat and listen thea to tha beat   As tha words come out my mouth and grab hard by yo feet   Penetratin to yo nerves, sendin signals to yo brain   As I post up on tha curve, do you forget I'm tha blame?    Wit tha finastatic, lift up my shirt to pistol I will grab it   Killin folks and smokin blunts, I'm lettin these niggaz have it      Chorus[x2]      Visions of a silent one, loadin up an extra clip   Foes out to get me but these rounds will spill up out my clip   Trip and watch me throw some shit at yo head   No clear description of this face leavin coppers mislead      Now look into tha eyes of a muthafuckin crook (whatcha see? )   Jus a crip azz nigga high as he can be   Wit them 3 mo crooks, in otha words, my motives   Be comin hard, I told ya, and spittin shit so potent   And toastin to heavy burdens, nigga I'm on my own   Gauge inside yo dome to solve tha problem at home   It's on, now tha pressure's on my back wit a tree   Damn I gotta hit a lick (naw you need to hit that weed)   Stressin me is a baby momma gripin and cryin   Man I hope she ain't lyin about this baby bein mine   And times is changin, you betta peep tha world around you   Comin up I'm bound to a southside clown fool   Mr. pookie, mr. muffit, k-roc and c-pone   Rippin beats we see on   Smokin killa til we gon   Loan me them pistols so I can make a dismissal, what   Wont need to dis you, leave you shitty like some tissue   Bitch you anotha havoc, cause boy I ain't gon have it   My visions of a silent one release tha automatic   Let you have it wit tha gauge, buckshots come from every way   Got em lost in tha maze betta yet I see you dazed   Be amazed by tha power I posess, that I stress   Turn tha s to a p on yo muthafuckin chest   It's best you keep yo distance cause nigga I jus wont listen   Come on in my dimension and let's get into some killin      Chorus [x2]      (pookie please jus let me live, man)   Bitch would you let me live?    (huh? )   That's wha I thought   (gun shot)   Surprise nigga I hit that scene when you think I wouldnt   Talkin shit to my niggaz now boy you really shouldnt   Cause tha pack in tha back of me they really killaz   Cut you up, body show nuthin but yo body shiver   Flossin that bitch that you wit and really shit to me   Cause I don already fucked that hoe   But you cant tell and you cant see   How a pimp that be me, be actin quiet and calm   Be quick to snatch yo bitch and leavin that hoochie body numb   Tha fun of her, lickin my back and my azz   Told me to lick up on her, but hoe now I think I'll pass   I'd rather smoke on a blunt I get so high I get tweeted   I try to stop smokin so much, k-roc keepin me weeded   Jus back on off of me though don't wont no mo or no static   I'd rather reach for my gun, bust a pump, let some punk nigga have it   This nigga don't know where I'm from homeboy you betta take a look   Because I'm out of clean and dirty, 13030 stoneycrook      Chorus [x2]