Chorus:
Rolling down that window
Imma get you for that pillow talk
Rolling down that window
Imma get you
When that trigger talk
Rolling up that indo I think I
Hear them spirits talk
But when I roll up in that Benzo
And get out you see guerilla walk
Verse:
Itu0027s the murder master, you
Bout that yapping boy?
Bumping your gums gone get
you stretched out in traffic boy
Know how that wolf lurking,
Donu0027t let that moon curse him
And if anybody gotta problem with it
Imma let the chopper get out and cock it and
“Pocka, pocka pocka pocka “
East coast west coast anybody killa,
You thought you were brave till you faced a guerilla
They opened the cage as I displayed my displays of rage
Repent for youu0027re sent to the grave
No bible on earth can prepare you for what
I will bring to your table and do to your spouse
Lifting and pulling all under her chest with my
Big black fingers all under her blouse
I need wiggle room for my squad
Cement trucks like the mob
Iu0027ll send them young boys through and they
Canu0027t come home till they finish the job
Iu0027ve managed to channel my anger through music
Egyptian with bricks levitate from my Voice
The victim that snapped and turned into a killer
I figured he had no way out or a choice
These are the times considered the last days
When you smell it on my clothes
You know that Iu0027m getting blazed
Once youu0027re in my clutches know its no escape
I hold your fate in my icy grip of death
Fight to feel your breath
You gone need a Pope and a pentagram
Thatu0027s on God imma bust till the trigger jam.
Chorus 2:
Rolling down that window imma get you
For that pillow talk
Rolling down that window imma get you
When that trigger talk
Rolling up that indo I think I
Hear them spirits talk
But when I roll up in that Benzo and get out
You see guerilla walk
