(Shut Ya mouth, Shut Ya Mouth, Shut Ya Mouth Bitch)
Fully Loaded
Starting up a problem we gon' end it bitch
Out tha, Out tha, Out tha, Out tha
Out tha muthafuckin pit
Triple 6 you know the digits
My clique known for whoopin bitches
Oh i see you riding benzes
Show you what banana clips is
Red Dot
On tha glock
Fuck a shot we comin hot
Creepin out the concrete jungle
With the fucking sawed-off
Take em to the stash pot
Money for a matlock
Pour gasoline
Then i reach for the match box
Strapped with a mask finna put you in a bad spot
Had a "BAD DAY" so i'm finna blow ya ass off
Juking out a Nigga like an emote from the war zone
Blunt big as ET finger
Told yo bitch to phone home
Feeling like the reaper
Slowly creep up with the blood tone
Turn you to a screamer
Ridin steamer till the smoke gone
Tacet master manipulator
He don't wanna sign it bitch, rip tha paper
You don't wanna find em bitch
Ask a favor
Cap a hoe, i told you bitch not to save her
Bitching to him
Bitch i'm the shit
House of the devil, you sucking the metal
I never will settle, you pushing the fentanyl
G.O.D.S-ZILLA
The muthafucking thrilla
Comin from the bottom
I ain't talkin sodom
Hearing what he raps
They wonder what's inside em?
TACET, APOC KRYSIS
You can never fuck with this
9 millimeter boyz
Pop out now we shot the bitch
.45 desert eagle
Stick up bitch, no fuckin needles
Feel the hate, i promise feeble
Big move like max keeble
A couple pills you feel ok?
A couple drinks you feel the same?
Now he sick
He hear the rain
End his shit
But bring the pain
You've been wishin' in one hand and shittin' in the other
You'll see which one filled up first
The numbers come up, & it sure as hell ain't a lucky one, son