The Nun Runner (The Show Down Part V)

On the count of three we move out
Anything flinches let the shell casings fly without questions or doubts  
Hold up…looking down at my Cartier watch  
Those bombs been set  
Yeah, my Queen you know we deal with nothing but top notch  
I peeped Lucky fucking some bitch in the back room  
Okay G you got my back  
I’m ready to send this bitch to her tomb  
In five, four, three, two, one  
Boom  
  
Na'll niggas don’t run now  
Any one of your fucks move my Glock goes pow pow  
G bring that bitch to me  
I suspected it was you  
Known for stealing from every crew  
Today you face your worst nightmare  
I’m gonna kill your ass, without batting an eyelash and without ever retucking a strand of my hair  
I cannot believe, you the stank hoe who sold my main man out behind a false tease  
Drugged his ass then vamped before he came through I hope your pussy was worth  his please  
But….  
Bitch just shut the fuck up  
And you took my money, my dope, and my motherfucking plants and thought you could just flee  
Without word getting back to me  
   
G, hold this bitch’s hand out, dammit flip it over  
Lifting my straight razor carving my initials in her palm, G, lift those keys out her pocket, I just got me a new Land Rover    
I was ordered to steal your shit, Queen I meant no harm  
Yeah you actions has raised several alarms  
My contacts in the ATL was not to happy you took their cut  
Lucky you let this bitch pull you down, now your name is on the globe as a snitch and being corrupt  
Get down on your knees  
Queen no…  pretty... pretty please  
   
Putting my black gloves on  
Screwing my silencer in place to muffle the sound of your death moans    
G, make sure no witness to atone  
My face you’ll remember when you’re dead in the grave and alone  
But first, where the fuck is my cash and my money  
G... watch that nigga over there, I do not like the way he’s peeping on me  
Oh, you think this shit is funny  
Lifting my steel, plugging the center of his forehead  
The earth his sorry ass has now made a bed  
   
You got any shit to say bitch before you meet your maker in Hell  
Fuck you Hoe.. you kill me, my crew will tell  
Pop-Pop… being six feet under does not get delivered mail  
Kill them all  
Then what my Queen, it’s your call    
Grenades, ashes to ashes nothing stands not even a wall  
   
Done my Queen