Pass that blunt nikka!
I'm in the hood where the eggs get knocked off
Gang members find they family members with both of they legs chopped off
nikkaz ain't scrappin, they bangin ya
The judge don't need a tree branch when they hangin ya
All y'all fags'll get ate like clams
Since this is a "Bloodsport" bytch, you could call me J Van Damme
All these so called guerillas be tellin
How a rat gon' give you "Thoughts of a Predicate Felon," muh'fukker
Homey what you want, the blade or the slug
I'm the one that send the order when they sprayed up the club
bytch nikka, bow your head in the presence of G's
Load the lead up and squeeze; I'm a great dane, nikkaz is fleas
fukkin rats cant wait to call cops
'Til I make 'em sick and put pellets in they mouth like cough drops
J-Hood bytch, my name ring in the ghetto
Cause I'm O.G. and I play the streets like a cello