Rusty Revolvers - Bronze Nazareth

If you don’t fuck with me and don’t fuck with me man yeah

Muerte nigga, dead that

Come on, yo, yeah, shit

I’m a margin shatter 2Pac product

Razor Riddick Rusty revolvers partner

Don of the State, honor the greats

I’ll do your career, broke records in a crate

Check me on the interstate in the Great Lakes

Catch you with a knife or a line or a tape

Superhero no cape

Escape with more cake

Gloves on both hands that fit like OJ

Still you must acquit yards full of Dusty pits

Chicken fights, bitches, saggy tits

Worn out

Torn out the frame like your ex’s picture

Freshest mixture

When I speak I collect to the riches

The kid’s so gifted, it’s 365 Christmas

Jones-town is liquids when listening

Slave to a plea deal shout out to prison

When it rained I thought it was God throwing up liquor

Heart turned cold her the block whisper

This year you going to be that nigga, nigga

Thanks already know that

Blowback weed like a smokestack

Bird flu of rap still wolf pack

Straight out the bush Walt White dough stack

Chop Shop no cars

A pro at SARS bars

Czar cigars silky Cloud superstars

Nigguh!