It's click clack, get back, I ain't with that/ get ya b**** smacked, this-that, wrist wrapped/ I don't wana hear ya shit raps, I could run six laps... round' all of my OPS... and this gun got a kick back/ gun to ya face you'll never get ya kicks back/ you could get ya shit snapped, head cracked, chicken wing, head tap & that's that... (yeah... a head tap & that's that).../ she addicted to my d*** like a hit of that crack/ she sucked it, rode me twice & then she ran it right back/ then I rolled a couple blunts & passed the b**** a nightcap/ and I told her I'd be right back... but I wasn't/ I try to do good but I doesn't/ phone buzzin'... prolly my cousin/ hear, feel this bass n' percussion while I rap out this discussion/ gun busting... I let off about a dozen/ I once fucked a bitch who wuz the leader of a coven/ and then all of a sudden a couple of buns in her oven, plus a muffin/ kids will prolly come out loving nothing/ turkey, stuffing/ weed I'm puffing, damn it's always something/ but the percussion is knocking the bass is still bumping... (yeah, the bass still bumping).../