[Intro]
I offer this burnt offering
A 50 bar sacrifice
For all this fake shit these niggaz makin
(May God have mercy on your soul)
[Doap Nixon]
Well it's the time of the year to stack the riches
Must be that time of the month, they actin like bitches
It's nickel bag, the flow is poppin
Niggaz all on my top, cause the flow's a monster
A hustler a hustler, a pimp is a pimp
Never mix the two together cause your shit'll get gripped
I'm at the top muh'fucker you at the top of the bottom
Never sweat small shit cause these niggaz I got 'em
The album's dropping, came in with the title
Can't hate on a nigga when he's America's Idol
They're beggin me to come hard and they're beggin you to retire
I ain't the type to air it out, I set niggaz on fire
Your manager wanna meet and your record label's bitchin
State Road is packed, a lot of niggaz snitchin
I ain't your average rapper, this ain't your run of the mills
The Hawk is official, the Chumpies is steel
So fuck beef, I'm a business man cousin
But the love is all real, you can quit with the buggin
Cut the strings from your puppet, wan' see how they walk
Take my words out they mouth I wanna hear how they talk
30 to go, something's tellin me to migrate
More paper up the road right off the highway
We bathe niggaz with bullets and dry 'em off with heaters
Decorate the phone wire with a pair of your sneakers
Somebody ring the alarm
Don't really care for paradise but you can bring me a bomb
It's Doap Nix, champ {?} sadeem of the underground
Them niggaz ain't shit, but they can put you underground
So from now on the snubs is tucked
I get love out in Mecca, hundred thugs wanna bust
20 left, I keep a count on the bars
County love to sour shit, keep a ounce with the scars
My nigga Snook word on the streets heard you gettin married
Congratulations my niggaz I'll miss you lil' fairy
Fat, steamy, velour black walk with men
Out of sight, out of mind, but the bars'll hit 'em
Still got the fiends overdosed the streets
Couple sons still trapped, hope they close to peeps
I'm still doin my thizzle, still spittin the missiles
Still got time for a good gristle (ten to go)
Ready to give this to my little brother
Good money, same blood, same heart, different mother
My old heads is in bark mode
The streets is our crib and we live by a dark code
So kick rocks, you're mumblin, but your words ain't nuttin
Toe tags the way we say stop frontin
A lot of pens, a lot of gin, clapped at a lot of men
Make niggaz jump out they skin
I know you gettin all this money right?
50 bars burnt, hope you come back with somethin nice
I said you gettin all this money right?
50 bars burnt, hope you come back with somethin nice
[Outro]
That's how you set a nigga on fire man
I do this man, I do what I want