(I cramp your style  With a bullet and a smile) [Onyx]    [ VERSE 1 ]  Ugh, niggas on the d-l casin me out  Truckin my jewels, feelin for the tools  When they come they gots to come correct  Because they know I catch wreck  A well-known wild street vet  Step into the kill zone, baby, it's on  I pack the twin nine-mills that'll lift your dome  Chrome pump with double-eyed slots and such  A fully-auto Mac-dime that is sure to touch  Ya, bust you with the Desert Eagle  Street legal, move against my peole  And the Ice gets evil  Hit you with the .44 Smith & Wes-  Son, you're best to run cause my Tec eats pests  I got a glock with the laser, hot police taser  Step in real close, I hit your throat with the razor  You wanna live or die, it's your decision  Talk shit, you're dissin, i got you in my night vision  Brain fragments on the street released  Another nigga fronts hard, another nigga deceased  I got a H.K., A.K. and a M-16  A 12-gauge street sweeper with the circular clip  Quick to let projectiles fly, you die  And watch your fat moms cry - bull's eye    (I cramp your style  With a bullet and a smile) [Onyx]    What you think all the guns is for?    [ VERSE 2 ]  What's up, niggas don't seem to hear  Still lookin crazy, let me make this clear  Fool, the Ice ain't havin it  And when I let loose lead, believe I'm accurate  Fat scope on a 30???6  Sawed-off double barrel and a pistol grip  Pump on my lap at all times  I fill my gauge shells with nickels and dimes  Thompson Center spittin .45 slugs  Black Mac-11, Python .357  Snub-nose .38 or .380  Seventy Automatic, full metal jackets  Hollow points comin atcha fast  You feel the slug before you hear the blast    (I cramp your style  With a bullet and a smile) [Onyx]    Muthafuckas frontin hard  Lookin at niggas crazy and shit  Make a nigga break  Nigga don't want me to pull out    [ VERSE 3 ]  I don't like shootin but I do shoot straight  Niggas I be rollin with will shoot up a wake  Why you wanna step in the sights of a nigga  Known hair trigger, the coroner delivers  More cold bodies to the morgue each weekend  One minute you bleed, the next minute you're leakin  Best to listen close cause this ain't no boast  And never forget that I leave you wet  Bloody, sticky, holes in your Dickey's  Oh what a pity, lookin all shitty  My Winchester will get the best of ya  Hand grenades will fade all the rest of ya  I reach out and touch you with the parabellum  You got a crew, you better tell em