BMS On The Attack - RBX

Yo man

Brother Madness Style, c’mon, let’s let’s do this shit

Motherfuckers done rolled on 'em

Nah nah it wasn’t the gangsters man

It was, it was them motherfuckers, yeah (who was it?)

(yeah, right right) Them motherfuckers, (??)

(Shoot them motherfuckers man!)

Yo yo, yo Create man, you got the strap?

Rex T man, pop in the clip

Give, give me the gun man

Give me the gun that motherfucker is slippin

One-eighty-seven

Fuck it!

I gotta do this quick

I grab my Glock seventeen, the clip went click

Dat-da-da-dot-da tec, perfect

So I keep on I — pop him and drop him

That oughta stop him from comin up blocks

Dead in his tracks from stacks of facts

Relax!

I’m about to take my respect

I lower, and aim straight for his fuckin neck

Boo-yaa boo-yaa then I fade into the wind

Hiden by the night, reflected by moon

Soon comes the wrath of blacks actual facts

Pistol cracks.