[Woodie]      Bullets fly      Quicker than the eyes   You was hittin' Mary-Jane      To ease the pain      Your homie died      Muthafucka I'm a ride      To the rallies on steel      I'm in the bushes camouflage      Ain't thinkin' 'bout no clientele      If I fail I'll rot in jail      And if I succeed      I'll burn in hell      So either way I'm fucked in these streets      The Bible says I live my life rough      Statistics say I'll die young      I can't disagree cuz I'm a       Fuckin' walkin' time bomb      The clock is tickin'      Finger's itchin'      To unleash a piece      Some 32 empty homies      That are dyin' to beat      The [?] flesh you wanna kill me      Sucka really      Ya'll the type that pull your strap      And shoot holes in the ceiling      And I get out for killin'      Sucka give it up      With your strap beside and ride      To the club and live it up            [Chorus] x3      Out to the cuts      The clock is tickin'      Finger's itchin'      In the bushes camouflaged      Waiting for my victim            [Woodie]      I never thought that I would live      To see the age of 21      I grew up paranoid      When I often sleepin' with my gun      50 dollars by my purse      Strap a sawed off one shot gauge      Since the a day I lay the blaze      I was stuck in evil ways      In amaze      At the power that it could devour      Strip that O.G. from his reputation      In the late night hour      Show shower let the situation sour funk      But ain't no stoppin' the poppin'      That gets the droppin' these pumps      I found my callin' and I      Hooked up with some natural born killas      Preferrin' 45 calibur's over 9 miler's      Survivals of the peelas      So I creep precaution      Steppin' out his skeleton      An I'm red chucks flossin', hoggin'      I'll be that muthafucka that you hate      Cuz you know I'll take that clip and      Slap it in and test your fate      And demonstrate the Yoc influenced       State of mind that I'm stuck      I'll be committin' sins wit a devilish grin      I gives a fuck            [Chorus] x4            [Woodie]      Creepin', crawlin'      Strap not fallin'      But got a box of ammo      For the weapon that I'm haulin'      The streets are callin'      So I'm comin' with artillery      And chucks and khakis      As I move up on my enemies      A pedigree soldier      Yeah that's were the foul      Northern Cal profile      Nothin' less I confess      I'm a sinner      But how can I show remorse      Cuz I can't afford to let the Bible      Throw me off course      I'm known to rivals      When I gotta make these       Sucka's skull crack      It could be better than      Havin' my chips and a yacht      And bet the whole stack      Do or die      Make these muthafuckas understand      That they're tryin' to touch      A particle that they can't comprehend      Can't pretend to be a soldier      When your a punk      Cuz it'll hold ya      Hog tied in the trunk      And name one chump      Run your mouth      And now your bent up like a slut      Should have kept your pistol cocked      Fuckin' with this Yoc murderer            [Chorus] x4            Out to the cuts [echoes out]