Serkan Çetinel

Lord forgive me… Kill him where he stand and stand over him
Shake his hand then jump back in that mini van
Double back to his block and blam I ain’t backing down for nothing
I’mma back ’em down like Shaq with this black 2-2-3 in my hand
Better pray that this chopper jam like a radio single, man
Police radio signals saying that a 187 land
On your corner, coroners comfort your momma
“Momma he’s dead” the next morning, I toasted up with my homies
We drink and smoke marijuana, want us to change our ways? Uh-huh
You see this game we play come from uncles that raised me in Compton
Ask me what I have accomplished, I don’t know I don’t have conscience
I just load up and start dumping on enemies; I’m head hunting
No sympathy, ain’t no love when you in these streets just get something
Protect ya neck cause they coming for sets, respect, split your onion
Then chop your deck your head tumbling like gymnastics..
Cause ignorance is bliss…