Out the Speakers lyrics

[Verse One: Vakill]
I roast n*ggas till they beg me change the subject
I write, arrange and publish
Brains in the street at point blank range in public
When I spit a round, like a semi-auto with a queasy clip
Meeting earl, leaving your back open like a hospital gown
You better bite more than The Lox to beat me
Who you f*cking with been nice, since Christ was on a box of Wheaties
Let b*tches ass cheeks peeled apart
Got pus*y falling from the heavens, don't know whether to f*ck or build an Ark
Dragging his di*ks, the antagonist [?] dragon fisted with a .44 mag and a biscuit
With no religious, ethnic or racial exception
Squeezing off on n*ggas, with a nut busting facial expression
You're a monopoly house in a volcano vicinity
I ain't got sh*t to lose, except unlike you, my anal virginity
Let Juice catch bodies and I'm gonna catch the b*tch
My trigger finger got a bad case of crabs now who wanna scratch the itch?