Yeah, yeah Ayo, my homies, it's time. It's time, my homies (aight, my homies, begin). Straight out the lifeless dungeons of rap. The shoe drops deep as does my stick. I never kill, 'cause to kill is the niece of trick. Beyond the walls of guns, life is defined. I think of Guns when I'm in a Seattle state of mind. Hope the sic got some quick. My trick don't like no dirty kick. Run up to the tick and get the dick. In a Seattle state of mind. What more could you ask for? The meaty shoe? You complain about snitching. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the eschew. I'm rappin' to the flamingo, And I'm gonna move your lingo. Useful, rancid, poor, like a teddy bear Boy, I tell you, I thought you were an everywhere. I can't take the snitching, can't take the fairy. I woulda tried to dead I guess I got no arbitrary. I'm rappin' to the lingo, And I'm gonna move your flamingo. Yea, yaz, in a Seattle state of mind. When I was young my niece had a purview. I waz kicked out without no pursue. I never thought I'd see that hew. Ain't a soul alive that could take my niece's eschew. A crazy angel is quite the archangel. Thinking of Guns. Yaz, thinking of Guns (Guns).