Meet Yo Maker

[Verse 1: Tommy Wright III] Me and my partner TipToe 'bout to do a homicide Crankin' up the ride, finna go out on the east side First I roll a blunt, so rappers like us can get high off the spliff So when we gets to cap, we won't have no pity when we kill Rolled up on the set, real slow, with the lights off Then I see my enemies, wanna cap 'em with the sawed off Bustas standin' on the corner, sippin' on some Alizé That's when I got the TEC, threw in the clip and then commence to spray Jump back in the Chevy, burned rubber, as I left the scene Still blazed from last night, so a killing to Tommy Wright just ain't no thang Ballin' down Bellevue, headed to a C.T.O Buy me a getaway, packed my bags and lay low Go and pop the trunk and put the pump in the plastic bag Buried in the yard of the house that my father had Now these suckers fearin' me with rumors lurkin' on the streets That I shot another, left his body like a refugee Yellow tape, chalked bodies, blood on the concrete Won't go to jail now or later, step to me, you'll meet yo' maker [Sample] (Watch yo' back, 'cause you might get smoked) (Ayy! I shot a motherfucker) Meet yo' maker, meet yo' maker (Watch yo' back, 'cause you might get smoked) (Ayy! I shot a motherfucker!) [Verse 2: Tommy Wright III] We was loungin' in the steamer at a light, laid back Couple of macks tried to jack, so we had to peel some caps I pop one in the leg, sliced the other with a knife I don't care about spirits hauntin' me, I still be smokin' blunts, G The other robber grabbed TipToe, tossed him out the car They got us stuck between trucks, they done went too damn far He grabbed TipToe by the head, put the pistol to his face I act like I ain't give a damn, stood still in one place Then I pointed the barrel, he pointed his and told me, "Drop the gun!" That's when he messed up, TipToe rumbled his ass, and started to run Now yo' ass free, I'm gon' cap this fool now, not later Run over his ass in the steamer, turn, trick Meet yo' maker (meet yo' maker..) [Sample] (Watch your back, or you might get smoked!) (Ayy! I shot a motherfucker!) Meet yo' maker, meet yo' maker, meet yo' maker (Watch your back, or you might get smoked!) [Verse 3: Shawty Pimp] Mind of a Black Haven killa I'm pimpin' & peelin' these women and these [?] cuz I'm dealin' I'm makin' my money fast, shakin' these suckaz like when I blast I'm hard to the pimpin' game, ain't no thang, I'm a killa, mayne I'm constantly killin' and servin' the time for punishment 5-0 think they runnin' thangs, they don't know I'm aboutta klick P.I.M.-killa-P. stupid punk, I'm describin' me Point-blank with the red beam, it's bound be a bloody scene I kill like a heavy-habbit, the bud, I gotta have it I'm drankin' & thankin' one day I might 'come a dead victim (?), and clockin' my Glock on 'em I'm constantly killin' these suckaz, droppin' these bustaz Makin' them scream in pain Stickin', and jackin', and crackin', and packin' a skull Yeah, I'm goin' insane To be a pimp legacy, killa instinct inside-a me I learnt from my family, killin' can be done easily Don't let me like catch ya slippin', a quick way to start the killin' Shot in the head, left for dead It's just one more Trick that got shot up quick, so go plan a funeral I creep in ya house, hit ya motha, and then I lynch her Yeah, playa I got the mind of a killa Meet yo' maker... Meet yo' maker... [Verse 4: TipToe] Tippy-toe! Tippy-toe! On you with the gauge, so Put to the ground, take ya down, now ya feelin' assed out Tough luck, crab-ass nigga goin' against a real pimp Grab my shoe with a grip, bust you in yo bottom-lip Jump in the air, come back down, drop-kick to yo skull Put yo ass in severe pain, killa like me ain't got no love Put you in a bodybag, have yo fuckin' body dragged Down to the riverside, nigga like me ain't bar no height Quick to jump and tip you up, think fast when I blast Run to the back of the room, and assume that I was sure to take yo cash Nevertheless, I kill a trick, when I click, insane quick Glock, took yo knot, get yo knees dirty for the shot Cho' cuz ya know (?) in the back o' yo throat Callin' up my clout, when I'm out, gotta count my cheeze Can'ts get 'em dirty, yeah I'm talkin' about (?) Lead for you bustas from my 38-caliber Hit-list, think quist, scratch 'em off my calendar Cuz, take a buzz from a bullet to yo temple You think you can take out a real playa? Try yo luck, nigga