Cornerboy

i come equipped with a nine fucking ready to bust
Grabbing the Bowie off the mantel and commence to thrust
I'm looking to get a smile out of what was once disgust
This is not really hate, I just don't really trust

But I blow back like ex-lax
Slammed in another clip and released the extract
Fucking pistol popping bitches are soon forgotten
Just point his ass out and I promise I got him

Tightly doing this shit up close or long range with a scope
Camouflaged in the treeline, sniper rifle, I'm no fucking joke
Leave his ass floating as he is signaling the boat
Or bust his ass in the chest as he walks out the door

Let's get this shit started, I want the fucking water to flow
Weigh and bag this piece up and then starting some more
I deal in nothing but paper currency, no fives or tens
I really deal fifty and up, never any of those little brown men

If George or Abe is on your shit, you should erase and start over again
That piece was unacceptable, let's blame it on the pen
Grab a box and let's restock all my fucking spots
Peaking around fucking pages to ensure I don't get got

There are fifty cals and sixty millis in the possession of all these sillies
Out here mistaking a stallion for a motherfucking filly
Going to mattress and let's lay a few stanzas down
Haha I'm not just floating it by the key, I sling it by the pound