Violence lyrics

[Verse 1: Killamac]
Comin' straight up out the light, it’s the pimp n*gga, ho
Smokin' blunts, grippin' pumps, and I’m kickin' down your door
Straight up killers, pullin' triggers, makin' hoes lay it down
With the Playa D-R-E, from L.S.P. North Memphis bound
Gunnin' quick up at your set, with this chrome plated TEC
With no vest up on your chest, so you're bound to get wet
Disrespect, you better jet 'cause Redrum is quick to spray
Hollow tips from the clip of the no-trace AK
So make way in my day, while I'm creepin’ with the chrome
Skimask Troopaz executors, puttin’ them bullets in your dome
Lemon lames, makin' stains, you in pain, bullets in your door
Gimme that dope, you get smoked, Lil’ Killa with the lizzow pro
On a trick, you's a b*tch, tired of your sh*t, gimme' your all
Watch 'em run, when I gun, who gon’ ball, lose your all
Watch 'em fall, as I cross, Skimask Troopaz blowin' that dope
You got ana on your chest, bring that sh*t to the floor

[Verse 2: Mista Playa Dre]
Drizzop the cover on a ho, erase this fool up off of his set
It's the crooked type, up under the mask, constantly leavin' you wet
Straight off of light, claimin' that Northside
We hang in the cut, with them yalk
Biggidy buckin' out the shizzots, for them n*ggas who runnin' they jaw
And there still won't be no duckin'
When I be like, aimin' them thangs at your face
We be so serious, if you didn't know, recognize, it's Playa Dre
With a barrel, longer than the Amazon at your shoulder
Don't you slip, If you do, Lil' Killa pullin' the strap out his holster
We shippin' n*ggas into the morgue, unidentified
Plus them folks be scared to prosecute, 'cause we be packin' that fire
Up in the closet with that Mossberg lizzaid across my lap
John Rambo in disguise, holdin' a hundred round bullet belt
I'm so crunk, totin' that pump, on the prowl, full of that skunk
Droppin' that mad dog banana red, all cross suckers gettin' dumped
So don't rush into my battleground, statistics come out weak
From these dumb ass n*ggas steppin' on me
But I'm buried in the concrete
[Verse 3: So Serious]
Ski mask on my face, with the hundred rounds, lookin' for a lemon lame, down, make his heart drop, ho
Why the f*ck, these killers so serious, scopin' out my victims, show no love when I aim at his throat
Caught up in the Troopaz, y'all n*ggas finna' die
Hangin' with the crooked types, pullin' on the fire
Artillery in the trunk, with the bump with the tinted window down, leave the air full of skunk, drill them thangs at your door
And your kids and your mammy on the floor they get struck, ho
Remorse I know none, G-I-M-I-SUM, Family, down with me
Killer type n*ggas, the top of the street
The Troopaz made of four, we ain't wishin' for no five
Why you snitchin' to your boys, 'cause Gimisum didn't let you ride
Young n*gga just kill me, talkin' 'bout dissin' a pimp on the tape
I'm talkin' to God in my sleep, why they wish to player hate?
Now listen to the hundred rounds, lightin' up your hood like the 4th of July
AK's, .38's, .22's, six shot pump in the trunk, player haters finna die

[Verse 4: Mista Playa Dre & Killamac]
I'm causin' drama with the six shot, subtractin' n*ggas off the block
Killa n*gga, with the big Glock
Cross over, you get popped
Makin' lemons hit they knees
Don't you rush into this clip
Gimisum droppin' bombs
So you better be equipped
Sprayin' n*ggas just like Raid, so go duck up under your shell
Killa n*gga, crooked type
Life Street player, shoot to kill
Totin' that steel
Under my trench, with my face up under the mask
No remorse, you get torched when a mobster rob or blast
On a first time killer, grew his nuts overnight, suck the barrel like a di*k
Missiles gon' f*ck up your life