200 round

Nigga, don't get it twisted, homie

Remember who the fuck I am, nigga

Nah fuck that , lemme show you

Two-hundred round!

I make a murder with 2 hundred rounds of venom, I get in 'em

Make you wish you had a wish

Your bitches supersoak your denim

I be in some sicker shit you wanna bitch about it

Bring your bitch around and we gon see if she'll let you in

And I make her friend and take her

End up on the rubber undercover

When I smother anyone give me a minute and some butter

I don't talk about it better be about it

Never doubt a motherfucker who done spent

A gang of time up in the gutter

(Switch gears!)

Puttin' the work in, ain't no buster

Feelin' the rush and put 'em in dust

On top of the roof I'm ready to bust

I'm choppin' 'em all into minimal nuts

And droppin' them all into the bus

I fill the streets up with they death, Beretta issue

Will I bitch around and put you on the bus?

So quit your bitchin' and your dissin', don't nobody even listen

But to mention that you wish you bustin' back to pay attention

But you weep before you speak

You better be thinkin' about the demon

Comin' up into the house to meet you

With the blade and cut the tension

Open 'em up when they mumble a word about the Brainsick

I behave like I ain't got no common sense

I mean I'm really on the fence

I'll turn your meat up into mince

I'm makin' samples out you bitches

I'll be damned if I'mma let you go to sleep before I rinse

Your blood up on my hand I take you deep into the voodoo ritual

You probably thought about it, shit, I'll diss him in a video

And maybe he'll respond and boost my music

And I lose a couple thousand followers

And quit your job because you finna blow!