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One Shot Deal (Feat Redman)

One shot deal, one shot one kill

Hit you with the one shot skill

Bullets lift you up like you poppin' on the wheel

Feel I can't die when I'm poppin' on the pill

So real that it feel, keep Cochran on my heels

Who rock the black and back out

Now the MAC back out, just bout to blackout

Got the ROC on my back, SP on my chain

Shooters on the block slinging P last name

Outta hot pink things like Camron Range

The cocaine cowboy at work

I put ya niggas in the dirt for one like Dirt

Concealed hammer won't jam or won't chirp

Catch you on my second merk

Fresh outta jail, ice grill gat to smirk

Bitches on the waste can't serve 'em

ROC without Jay won't work?

Shit like we ain't here

Actin' like SP ain't here

How y'all niggas can't see that clear? Clear?

Yeah, slow all the way down young scrapper

Pump ya brakes real fast, before ya crash

Crack ya head on the dash

I put ya body in a cast, keep my shotty on blast

Hard heads don't get the picture until they see the flash

You ain't ballin', you pump faking

Till you found in ya trunk naked

Four pound to ya crown like, "Where the paper?"

B. Sig, cold crook, I trap paper like notebook

When the hot water disappear like when coke cook

Then resurface, its Sig. Berk-owitz, bitch I'm sick

Leave that ass like Dama

Sig. heat that ass like sauna

Stretch ya body out like recliner

Stretch my middle finger to your honor

like, "Fuck the world", that's my persona, love drama

Drop a building like Osama, you vagina

I know you wish you never met me like Carl Thomas

Try to forget me like all silence

Fuckin' with a vet be, all problems

I'm not about the threats B, I'm all promise

Before "The Truth", position in the booth

As a young scrap, I was vicious as a youth

Kept a gat moving pigeons in the Coupe

You was strapped, then positioned on the stoop

Stay strapped, put my pistol on shoot

Mac take ya "Juice" like Bishop on the roof

I had ya pissing in ya trunk like a roof

Bullets hit ya chest like a blunt rolled loose

I'm that corn liquor nigga, 100 proof

I bring the storm, all you niggas lace ya boots

Better yet, pull out ya strings, make a noose

Hang yaself, here's a deuce deuce, bang yaself like Cheddar Bob

I'm in the hood like S-T-tall cat-Crooked Letter-I

S-P-C-O, nigga yes IYes I

Matta fact

Yeah, Yeah

Bring it backBring it back, me, Doc, America's blunted

Not from there, but I'm Philly Most Wanted

Drop and roll, when my biscuit boil

Talk is greasy, tongue with Crisco oil

Streets is mine, check my flow online

At ww.cutanigga.com

Bricks, two on the hip, reach for the sky

You and ya Burberry suit is buried alive

On top of the Empire, dare me to dive

Wee there I go, no parachute

Jackass like Knoxville, hot as Cancun

Chest hair is baboon, Redman rip the show

I be the raw in ya bitches nose

She be goin' to the bathroom, sniffing blow

Like, "Oh Docta shit, my man a joke"

I know, I be strapped with a double 4-4

And a Slim Jim to open ya Cadillac door

In the Bricks you hear them guns

Rat-a-tat-bo!m

Any nigga get X'ed out like Tic-Tac-Toe

Any bitch that know, Redman goin' the distance

We ain't tryin' to get fucked for instance

When you bust baby, goin' light the incense

Pass me the rag, hop back in the Jag

I stole out the showroom with the price tag

I wrote this rhyme off 25 blunt drags

Hear that sound (whoosh), leave a block hunchback

Killa House, understand prick

We ain't gon stop till we "rich bitch"

Holla back, Redman, Beanie Sigel

Killa House

Songwriters

DWIGHT GRANT, ROOSEVELT III HARRELL, REGGIE NOBLESPublished by

Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC, DELLA MUSIC PUBLISHING, LLC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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