[Havoc:]
It be a buck-fifty
Your chance of runninIs infinte
Slugs that leave niggas drugged
Like a chick slip the Mickey
I'm so on the low
It'd take a Navy seal
To get me
When I surface
If not chips to Benz
Is the purpose
On your team
I'll pull the curtain
A beautiful hurtinTill my eyes see the blood
That mean the creep start workinNiggas never learnin' that
They eyes keep lurkinHave ya janitor
Pumpin' your [×5] merkin
Skid marks the street